Wayward Son
by madeline.james
Summary: How would Dean and Sam's life be if Dean made the decision to pull themselves out of the life!
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. I know I should be working on my other piece but this has been swimming in my head for a while. I hope you enjoy!**

It had been a longer than normal stay in the hospital this time around. Dean was grumpy and agitated, he was ready to get back on the road and move on. But Sammy had needed rest, and the doctors said he wasn't ready to be released yet. Not that Dead had been either, but he had checked out early of his own free will, even as the doctor chirped in his ear how it was too soon and against his wishes. Yeah, yeah; he really didn't care. Even as his side ached and the concussion blurred his vision and made him sway in his stride, or the stab of broken ribs when he breathed too deep.

And then there was the absence of John shortly after they had arrived, Dean had assumed he had gone to drink off the bad effects of the hunt at a bar, but that had been five days ago now. Although Dean was eighteen years old and completely capable of caring for himself, he still had his brother to look out for. He had been forced to call Bobby on day four and let him know they would be on their way, and to expect them in two days.

The old family friend had accepted their ask for hospitality graciously, and then asked about John. Dean hadn't known what to say, there wasn't a lot to say. John was MIA. This wasn't all together unusual since Dean had turned eighteen and John had gone off more independently, leaving the older sibling to take care of his younger one.

'You alright there bud?' Dean asked as they exited the hospital. Sammy was on crutches and he looked stupid, with his ever growing hulking frame, the small metal appendages that stuck out beneath his lanky arms, looked out place foreign.

'Yeah, will just be good to get to Uncle Bobby's.' Sam looked around then, as they reached the Impala, purring softly where Dean had left it close to the entrance for Sam's sake. 'Where's dad?' His face scrunched up in confusion and Dean's heart sank a little.

He had been able to pass their dads absence away in the hospital that John had been with Sam during the night while he slept, or during the day when he had fallen prey to the painkillers alluring sleep affect.

'Uh, he said he will meet us there in a few days. Had some things he needed to do before he caught back up with us again.' Dean hated having to think on the spot like that, but what choice did he have? Sam and John had been at wars lately, and the last think he needed right now was for his little brother to feel abandoned and like he wasn't worth his fathers' time.

'Sure.' Sam had stopped believing him in the hospital a long time ago, Dean knew that, but a lie was sometimes better than the truth. Plus, it's not like he was deliberately trying to hurt the kid.

In all truth Dean was pissed more than he would ever admit, and he was furious that he felt like this in the first place. Where was their father when they needed him? Fuming he slammed the door of the Impala without realising and apologised when he felt Sam jump beside him. Plans had been forming in his mind for the past few days now, and was planning on using their time at Bobby's to put fuel to thought and work out whether or not that was really what he wanted to do.

Maybe some time with their surrogate father would make things more clear for him.

'Are you okay Dean?' Startled he turned around to face Sam who was staring at him with concern all over those thirteen year old doe eyes. They were still sitting in the car, he hadn't moved yet. Nodding quickly, he put baby in to gear and tore out of the hospital parking lot without a backward glance, even as he silently moaned in pain and envy of his brother with his pain killers and oblivious mind. He was determined to spend as much time in his beloved car as possible. If he could, he would even attempt to make the trip in one hit. Providing it didn't seem like Sam was in too much pain that was, with his broken leg he wouldn't want to be sitting in the car for very long, though Dean was sure he should have been in the backseat laying down rather than sitting shotgun in the front with him.

SPNSPNSPN

By the time they hit Bobby's, after an unwanted stop over at a hotel for the night, Dean would never admit it was for his own benefits but Sam's, they were both rugged and weary and in need of a good hot shower, (or bath for Sam with his broken leg). Their surrogate father met them in the yard and helped them carry in the bags, making light hearted comments about how terrible they both looked and mocking Sam for his broken leg and being on crutches.

It was pleasant and Dean felt himself feeling better almost immediately. They were somewhere where they could be cared for. After his silent ministrations in the car, Dean hadn't realised how much his dads absence at the hospital or in other important parts of his life had been affecting him. He blamed it on his current state of mind, and the thoughts he had been riddled with all week, but it still didn't stop the ache or hollowness of feeling unloved.

For the third time in two days, Dean found himself jumping as he was asked again, if he was okay. This time it was Bobby, who took him by the arm and led him stiffly to the kitchen table as he realised he must have stopped in the doorway. Looking around, he tried to work for how long when he noticed Sam was already spread out comfortably on the sofa with a blanket. Shaking his head he wondered what was going on with himself.

'You alright son?' Bobby asked again, handing Dean a steaming cup of coffee and planting himself on the seat next to him, taking in the haggard appearance and concern laced eyes and the way his lips thinned in deep thought. On Dean, who was usually such a free radical this was a concerning sign.

'Yeah, just had a lot on my mind Bobby. Can't tell you how much it means for you to have us here right now.' Dean sank back in to the chair, resting the coffee cup on the table and sinking his head down to his arms where he rested them, folded beside the untouched cup.

Worry spiked in Bobby straight away, this wasn't right, something must be terribly wrong for the oldest Winchester son to be breaking down like this. When he noticed the shake to the shoulders, and heard the low sounds of hitched breathing, Bobby froze.

A moment later Bobby jumped in to the action and stood, resting an arm across Dean's shoulder and comforting the eighteen year old silently as a hand unlaced from its hooked position and grasped his shirt. Leaning over from the pulling weight, Bobby was further shocked when Dean leant in to him and cried hard. _Had something happened to John, was Sam terminally ill? _

They didn't notice Sam standing shocked in the doorway, he had never seen Dean break down like this. But it wasn't all surprising as his brother had been acting strange all week.

'Dean is something wrong with dad that you haven't been telling me?' Both older men startled and pulled away from each other awkwardly, Dean wiped violently at his eyes and cursed as he looked away. 'Dean?'

'No Sammy, Jo-Dad is fine. He is just away I told you that.' Dean stood up and headed for the staircase, all intent on ending the conversation suddenly. He hadn't planned on Bobby telling Sam to go sit back down and that he would be through in a moment as he followed Dean out of the room. Dean suddenly felt himself being steered towards the man's office.

'Dean Winchester you sit down and tell me what's going on right now?' He demanded.

Dean looked up at him through tear drooped lashes that shone above oceanic green eyes that swam with emotion.

'I need your help Bobby.' The words were barely choked back before more sobs coursed through the young man.

'With what son?' Bobby rummaged around; he knew he had tissues in this room somewhere.

'Disappearing off the radar, I can't keep living this life Bobby. Sam can't keep living this fucking life! I want out, I want away!'

**What do you think? Should I keep going? **


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. I hope you enjoy!**

**Thank you everyone who reviewed the last chapter it means a lot to me!**

**2**

The house was silent. Bobby had helped Dean to bed a few minutes ago and watched as the older boy fell in to a heavy sleep, his face still assaulted with the evening's raw emotion. Sam had stirred for a moment from his own bed across the room but Bobby had soothed the young teenager back to sleep with soft words easily.

Now he was sitting stiff backed in the kitchen, alone as he consoled a cup of whiskey. He felt cold and bitter after hearing everything the youngster had spilled to him after his declaration of wanting out, to leave the hunt. But most of all he felt resentment for the life and for the man responsible for doing this to his son. John Winchester.

If that man were to show up on his property right now, it would be more than just a threat with rock-salt this time, it would be an iron round between the eyes his emotions were so wound up. It was unusual for Dean to share in any emotions. And Bobby knew it was because of the way John had raised his oldest, shouldering him with more emotional baggage and parenthood over Sam then he was capable of at four years old. And that had left him emotionally scarred and incapable of showing them at all.

Tonight was a turn of the tables that Bobby hadn't seen coming so soon, but knew was bound to happen at one time or another. He was just thankful Dean had made the right decision by coming to him to let it happen, instead of some lonely run of the mill motel where he would be scared and alone. Who knows what he could have been capable of if left alone to his own ministrations? It scared Bobby senseless.

Throwing back the whiskey, Bobby winced at the cheap amber liquor hit his stomach. Standing up and stretching the kinks from his chair he moved for his bedroom with every intention of catching some shut eye and then getting right on to helping the boys work out a new lives from themselves.

Stopping outside the bedroom that had long laid claim to the boys, he rested an ear against the door and listened quietly to make sure they were both sleeping. A slow moan was coming from behind the wooden door, and the sound of sheets being moved rapidly against. Sammy must be having another one of his nightmares, Bobby thought as he pressed against the door, surprised when he heard Sam mutter Dean's name in concern.

'Everything okay boys?' Bobby whispered as he pushed in to the room, his attention first went to Sam who was sitting up in bed rubbing sleep from his eyes before looking in Dean's direction with concern, following his gaze Bobby was surprised to see a very sweaty young hunter straining against sheets he had entangled himself in as he thrashed against them, moaning and crying out softly. _Since when did Dean have bad dreams like this? _Bobby made a mental note to take Dean to the doctors the next morning too, this behaviour was more abnormal then he was willing to admit.

'Dean, come on buddy, it's just a nightmare kid. Wake up son.' Bobby was sure to keep his distance when he nudged the teen; Dean was known for lashing out at people when they approached him in sleep.

The light flickered on and Bobby looked around to see Sam hobbling against the wall to keep the weight off his casted leg. 'Bobby is he bleeding?' Sam gasped as he pointed to the wet, crimson stain on the sheet wrapped around Dean's hands and wrists.

'Come on Dean Time to wake up kid.' Bobby tried harder now, grasping Dean by the shoulders and giving him a small shake; when that didn't work he gave him a light slap on the cheek. After a few more failed attempts and Dean's moans of sleep-full torment he bit down on his emotions and used John's tone. 'Dean wake up now, that's an order.'

Guilt soaked through Bobby's core when Dean's eyes shot open in shock and he looked around groggily with a mumbled '_Yes sir.' _Bobby almost broke, and he swallowed back tears as Sam hopped over awkwardly and sat on the end of the bed.

'It's weird being on the receiving end of a Winchester nightmare.' Sam mumbled, looking down at his hands as Dean took in a few deep, staggering breaths as Bobby bent to help him unwind his limbs from the twisted sheet. Bobby wasn't sure he'd ever be able to get the wrinkles out of the sheet they had been wound so tight, he was not even surprised when he noticed the indents in the numerous areas of Dean's sweat sheened body as they came loose. 'Are you okay?' Sam asked then, looking up with tearful eyes.

'Yeah kiddo, I'm good. Just a bad dream I suppose.' Dean grimaced as he used his numb hands to shift himself to a sitting position. His cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment from all the attention, this was not his favourite place to be, the spotlight of affection.

'Give us a look at your hand there Dean.' Bobby asked a little gruffly as he pointed to the bloody pool that was leaking in to the sheet beneath Dean's palm.

'Huh?' Dean looked down at his hand in surprise. 'Oh… ow.' Bobby couldn't help but smirk at that, it was so childish, even Sam chuckled lightly and gave his big brother a bemused look. 'What?' He asked, shocked at their reactions.

'Really Dean? Ow? You have been stabbed, shot, thrown against and _through _things and you cut your hand and say ow then?' Sam shook his head again. 'Incredible.'

'Guys not allowed to say now?' Dean demanded as he looked down at the gash in his palm, he oddly remembered wrapping his hand around the knife beneath his pillow when the nightmare had started, hoping for comfort from the protective symbol. He didn't remember wrapping it _around _the blade though.

'No, no of course you are. Just not normally what you opt for, over a few other choice words that is.' Bobby agreed with him.

'Might need some stitches. Come on down to the kitchen and we'll get this sorted. Go back to sleep Sam, I'll get your brother back to bed with a nice new pattern in his hand soon. No use all of us being up.' Sam nodded a little reluctantly. Dean stood up beside him and helped his brother hobble back over to the bed and tucked him in tightly.

Ruffling Sam's hair, he pulled the blanket up a little higher. 'See you in the morning squirt.' Sam nodded and closed his eyes, Dean combed his good hand through Sammy's hair for a moment until his breathing evened out and his face smoothed in to sleeps fine visage.

'Come on Dean.' Bobby took Dean by the arm, and was shocked to notice the oldest was allowing him to be both led and steered from the room like a child. 'Is there something else you're not telling me Dean?' He asked in concern.

'No Bobby, guess I am just worn out. There's so much happening in my head now I am surprised I can even talk let alone walk right now.' Their surrogate father nodded in understanding. It didn't all make sense yet though, and he added that his mental note of everything he had to do tomorrow. At the top he put finding out the full story.

Settling Dean in the chair he got to work on the stitches, it wasn't long before they were all back in bed. Bobby barely slept though; he kept his ears posted for any signs of distress that might come from Dean and Sam's room. After tossing and turning for three hours he eventually gave up on sleep and trudged towards his office with a jug of coffee on the brew and started researching a plan for Dean.

**SPNSPNSPNSPN**

Dean woke up the next morning with a little more hope for himself and Sammy when he noticed the smell of a home cooked breakfast and coffee that didn't smell like sludge from the sewerage. It was a pleasant and welcome change from the greasy scent of an overused diner kitchen.

Swinging athletic legs out of bed, Dean steadied his swaying form for a moment as his body caught up with the sudden change in altitude. Sam was already missing from his bed, and judging by the dirty clothes strung across the room, showered and changed all while Dean had been asleep somehow.

Shaking his head of foggy sleep, Dean berated himself for not being more aware. Sammy could have fallen on his cast, or slipped getting out of the bath, Bobby would had to have helped him with the task, but Sam wouldn't allowed him to with getting dressed which Dean knew was no easy task with a broken leg. He really should have been more aware.

Shuffling from the room, he glanced a look towards the welcome of a good hot shower and familiar towels, but the alluring scent of bacon frying from downstairs was too strong a pull against the shower and he head down for breakfast.

Grinning at the scene of Bobby leaning back in his chair trying to read his newspaper while Sam chatted animatedly about something he was looking at in a comic book, Dean couldn't hide the happy feeling that glowed in him suddenly. The dam that broke last night seemed to have lighted something new inside Dean, though foreign and something he was unsure of, he didn't mind it right then as he took in how normal it all looked.

Sinking down in to one of the seats he reached greedily for the half empty coffee jug and filled a mug to almost over capacity before taking a long, needed gulp of the holy liquid. There was no such thing as a morning without that brilliant substance swimming around his body. It was the essence of life in itself. Setting the mug down with a large sigh of contentment his eyes lit up once again when he took in the food, the bacon was still frying in the pan, sizzling away happily as it reached the perfect crunch level.

Eggs were already laid out on the plate with golden buttery toast, and just for Sammy waffles. Grabbing a plate, Dean stood up and took over the cooking of the bacon. He turned it in the pan, pleased to see it was cooked already and was just there to keep warm for his awakening. _Maybe I should break down in front of Bobby more often. _Dean thought with a sly grin as he placed the plate on the table.

Sammy's eyes met his with a wide grin that tickled the dimples in his cheeks with the long bangs the kid refused to cut away. 'Eat up kiddo.' Dean announced as he threw the tea towel he'd carried over at Bobby's paper to get his attention.

'Ya damn idjit!' Bobby cursed as the paper folded in on him, causing him to ruffle the pages loudly and have to fold them carefully so as not to tear them. 'You couldn't have asked me nicely?' Dean shook his head around a mouthful of bacon and toast.

'I don't remember the last time I had waffles these good.' Sam mused as he doused the breakfast food in maple syrup before cutting in to them with a gusto Dean hadn't seen in a long time. A small pang hit his heart then, and he looked down at his breakfast sadly. _He was allowing this to happen to his brother… _

'Uh excuse me for a minute.' Dean stood quickly and headed for the bathroom. Shutting the door quietly and hitting the lock, he turned the faucet on and bent over the toilet to say hello to his meagre breakfast again. Retching turned to dry heaves as he sank against the floor and gripped the porcelain bowl with a white gripped hold. Resting his sweaty head against one of his hands, he sighed and pushed himself back up, flushing the toilet and rinsing his face and hands.

Stepping outside for a minute, he waited in the lounge room, to get more control of him before stepping back in front of Bobby and his little brother. Sammy was the last person he wanted to see this weakness he had found in himself.

Settling back at the table he pulled a piece of toast on to his plate, disregarding the bacon that now mocked him and picking at small pieces. Looking up when he released the chatter had died down; he found both sets of eyes planted on him. Burning red with embarrassment he shoved a large piece of food in his mouth and mumbled what.

It seemed like the never ending question for Bobby since they had arrive yesterday morning, but he couldn't help but ask again; 'You okay son?' He didn't expect the truth, but he felt the need to ask anyway. For Sam's sake.

'Yeah, can a man drain the vein without being questioned? First I can't say "ow" and now I can't take a piss?' Dean faked mock hurt as he reached for his coffee cup, wincing when it pulled on his stitched palm.

'Dean?' Sammy asked, looking small in front of his large breakfast plate.

'Yeah Sammy?' Dean turned his green eyes on his little brother and fought back the bile again, _why can't I look at him without feeling physically ill?_! Dean questioned himself as he took in Sam's thin, lanky frame that he still needed to grow in to. The old clothes Dean himself no longer fit in to, and the way his skin look malnourished. _How have I let this happen? _

'Are you really okay? You look like you're going to be sick.' Sam whimpered, giving Dean his full on puppy dog eyes, almost making him crumple in a heap at his feet.

'Yeah shorty, I'm good. Now eat your breakfast, I spotted Bobby eyeing those waffles when I walked in here before, don't think they will be safe much longer.' Bobby played along with Dean's ploy to assure his little brother by reaching over sneakily with his fork and stealing a bit of the breakfast, making over exaggerated sounds of enjoyment around the small mouthful.

Smiling softly, Dean watched Sam's thirteen year old body twitch up and covering his breakfast quickly with a small laugh as he moved away from Bobby and cut in to his breakfast with the same esteem as before. Grasping his coffee cup, Dean stood again and headed outside this time.

Fighting against the nausea, Dean kept walking until he was well away from the house and surrounded by the bodies of wrecked cars in Bobby's yard. Placing the cup down in a shaky grip, Dean leant against one of the cars and closed his eyes.

Things were finally hitting home and forcing him to realise how wrong everything was. How wrong their upbringing was, their father, their life, everything they did just screamed _wrong. _And Dean had gone along with it for too long now, things were going to change. He couldn't live like this much longer; his emotional width had well and truly overfilled and snapped its strong hold last night and there was no getting back those walls. Dean knew that, he was just having a hard time dealing with emotions he normally locked away like this.

Turning around, he rested his forehead against the coolness of the old car and brought his hand up to slam fisted against the rotted tin. He didn't care when he felt the skin of his knuckles split and welt as he bought both fists now slamming against the unrelenting cars. It was all he could do not to go insane right now.

By the time he was finished, blood was running down his fingers in streams, and as he looked down at them, Dean was sure he could see bone through some of the torn skin in his knuckles. Emotionally wasted he sank down to his knees and wrapped his arms over them, letting his head rest atop them like last night. After a moment he felt himself falling in to a peaceful sleep.

SPNSPNSPN

With Sam comfortable on the sofa, watching an old rerun of the Simpsons, Bobby paced around the kitchen. Dean had been gone for a good three hours now. He knew the kid needed space right now, but there was a gnawing worry in the back of Bobby's mind that something was wrong. That and he was eager to show Dean what he had come up with in his sleepless hours spent at the computer last night.

'You be alright there for a minute Sam? I'm just going to go out and get your brother so we can have a talk alright?' Sam nodded. 'Need anything before I head out? I don't want you getting up while I am gone.'

'Bobby?' Sam's voice was so small an fragile, laced with impending tears.

'Yeah kiddo?' He knew what was coming.

'What's wrong with Dean? I've never seen him like this, and every time he looks at me lately, since I was in the hospital, he's looked like he's going to be sick. Have I done something, or is it dad and he's just not telling me?' Tears welled in Sam's eyes, some spilling over and running down his pale cheeks and resting on his baggy t-shirt.

'In his own time Dean will explain everything to you Sam, but know you have done nothing wrong. And as for your daddy, he's fine and dandy, trust me. Dean just needs some time to work things out okay?' Bobby wiped away the tears with a gruff, calloused finger. 'Now no more tears all right kiddo?' Sam nodded and wiped his eyes roughly.

'Winchester's don't cry, I know.' Sam shook off the tears and Bobby's heart shattered to pieces at that small admonishment. He was going to destroy John.

Stepping out in to the cool air, Bobby clenched his fists together as he moved through the cars grumbling quietly to him-self until he stumbled across Dean slumped against a pile of cars, bleeding again. Bobby's heart skipped a beat.

Running over he noticed the dents in the higher cars, and the rusty blood stains that were still slightly damp. 'Dammit boy.' He whispered as he took in the sight of the crushed knuckles and blood fingers that were still dripping slowly.

With a mighty sigh, Bobby leaned back against the car as well and pulled Dean against him. The boy didn't respond; simply let his hands fall by his side and his legs to slide down as his head lolled against Bobby's welcoming shoulder.

There was no time stopping them now, as hard as he tried Bobby couldn't stop the tears from raining down his face as he cradled the eighteen year old against him. He shouldered as much blame in this as Dean was feeling right now. He should have stopped John years ago from doing this to his children. But today it stopped. Bobby would be damned if he was going to stand for this much longer.

**Extra long chapter for all those super lovely people who reviewed and gave me the courage to keep this going! Thank you all so much!**

**If you like where this is going let me know, oh and I may have a twist to chuck in here. So let me know what you all think :D **


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. I hope you enjoy!**

**3.**

Sam was beginning to grow restless. Bobby had been gone for over half an hour now. Had something happened to Dean? Reaching over for his crutches, Sam rose to his feet a little unsteadily and headed towards the back door when he heard their voices approaching. His body sagged a little in relief as he used one of the crutches to kick the door open so he could step out in to the chilly air. The view that met him was not a pleasant one, he gasped in surprise.

Bobby was practically supporting Dean as he moved a snail pace, cradling his hands against his chest. Sam noticed the blood and bruises immediately, and turned to Bobby to demand an answer when he saw both men shared red rimmed, puffy eyes from crying and his mouth went lax and his mind blank as he struggled to form something coherent. _Was the world collapsing? _The two men he looked up to the most in this world (even more then his own father) had been away crying?

Something was definitely up.

'Bobby what happened?' He demanded, his small teenager voice sounding weak and emotional in his plight for answers.

Bobby just shook his head though and asked Sam to come inside and sit down with them. His whole body shook with fear as he gulped back an emotional lump in his throat; this was not going to be good news. He could feel it, and if Dean had been crying and punching things as he obviously had been the news would be catastrophic.

'Dean? Bobby, what is it?' Dean was sitting on the sofa, looking shell shocked as he held his hands against his chest still, his face an empty mask besides the obvious signs of previous grievance that still shone in his damp eyes. 'Will somebody please tell me what is going on here?'

Sinking down to the sofa himself, Sam clung to his crutches, afraid to let the one solid thing he had right now go. 'Did something happen to Dad? Or are you sick Dean?'

'You're brother is a little sick right now Sammy, not in a physical way. We do have something to discuss with you, but I am not sure it should be now. And remember what I said before? Your daddy is fine; this has nothing at all to do with his wellbeing.' Bobby rested a hand on Sam's shoulder for a minute, bracing the young child. 'Now mind you don't pester him about what's going on, can you look after your brother here for a moment while I go and get some whiskey and the first aid kit?' Sam gulped audibly and nodded, shuffling himself so close to Dean they were touching shoulders.

After Bobby left the room, Sam settled an arm across his brother's broad shoulders and snuggled in closer. He wished he knew what was going on, but Dean was an emotional warfare, he kept his wound up tight and locked away at the bottom of a concrete cell infinitely deep. That was probably what had him so scared, that his brother had been showing so much emotion lately.

'Are you okay Dean?' It was a small whisper, but it felt like it needed to be asked. That and it was bothering him to no end seeing Dean so silent and still. For a moment he wondered if he was asleep, but his eyes were wide open and almost catatonic.

'Yeah kiddo.' It was rough and hoarse, from misuse of vocal chords but Sam accepted it at as a start. 'You okay? Can't imagine this is easy on you right now, how's your leg?' Dean was suddenly animated as he lifted his head and held Sam in a strong gaze, his eyes looking him over for any ailments.

'You don't need to worry about me Dean.' Sam sighed; he wished his brother would care for himself just once. 'Bobby gave me my pain medication before so I am not really feeling much of anything right now.' He grinned a little stupidly, regretting it almost immediately when his brothers face drained of colour and he looked sick again.

'Dammit I didn't remember to make sure you took them.' Dean stood up suddenly and stormed off. Sam was left in his wake, gaping as he wondered what the hell was going on with his big brother when he heard the bathroom door slam and the water turn on at full pressure. He struggled to listen, and caught the unmistakeable sounds of his brother throwing up.

Standing quickly, he almost threw his crutches in frustration as they slowed him down, shouting for Bobby he made his way towards the bathroom.

'Sam what's wrong?' Bobby jogged back in to the lounge room just as the bathroom door opened an Dean emerged, sweaty and pale, hands hanging limp at his side as he leant against the door jam. 'Dean?' Bobby questioned, a little nervous.

'He was throwing up.' Sam stated in a matter of fact tone before Dean could say something else to cover it up. Not that it was necessary as Dean chose that exact moment to stumble forward being clutching at Bobby and collapsing to the ground where he fell on hands and knees, shouting out in pain against the protest of his knuckles, and throwing up again before slumping forward, unconscious.

He didn't know what to do. Sam watched the scene unfold in front of him as though in slow motion. And then the fear kicked in full force when he noticed the vomit was red, a deep crimson colour he knew shouldn't have been coming from his brother's stomach. Something was desperately wrong here. 'B-Bobby?' His thirteen year old mind was stirring up crazed thoughts of missed internal bleeding, or some other deadly ailment that was about to rip his brother from his grasp.

'I need an ambulance, my son has collapsed. His pale and sweaty and vomited blood seconds to passing out.' Bobby gave further information to the paramedics on the line, followed the instructions they gave him then hung up and set to moving Dean carefully out of his bloody vomit, and resting him on his side, mouth slightly open to avoid being sick further.

'Bobby?' Sam questioned again, tears running down his face, he couldn't move. Frozen to the spot.

'It's okay son. The ambulance will be here soon.'

**SPNSPNSPN**

Opening his eyes slowly, Dean winced in the bright glare of the fluorescents directly above him. He could feel the tight pressure of a cuff around his upper arm, the sting of an IV in the crook of his arm, and the pinch of a blood oxygen metre on his finger. Then he felt a warm pain, throbbing with the incessant beep of his erratic heart beat bouncing up and down the monitor.

It felt like his stomach was on fire, his throat was parched and raw from vomiting and all he wanted right now was a drink. 'Good to see you with us again Dean.' He cast his eyes around and met the friendly face of a female doctor; she leant forward and placed a thermometer in his ear. He breathed in her sweet perfume while she performed the simple task and he enjoyed the closeness.

'Where's Sammy?' He mumbled.

'Your little brother? He is out in the waiting room at the moment. I will bring him in with your father once we are done with the examination okay?' Dean nodded stupidly.

'Looks like you have a little infection Mr Singer. Temperature is a little high, 39 degree's.' She placed the thermometer back in its place and moved her hand down to his rib cage, probing gently till he winced as her hands connected with his broken rib, still not fully healed. 'Does that hurt?'

'I broke one of my rooms six or so days ago.' He supplied, she nodded and moved down his body. When he soft hands probed his stomach he almost screamed out in pain and she wrinkled her small nose in concern, fine lines and crow's feet appearing at the edge of her eyes.

'I am going to send you for an ultra sound and CT Scan of your stomach so we can see what is going on inside that stomach of yours Dean.' He nodded stupidly again. 'Now do you know what happened to your hands? You did a good job on your knuckles there young man.'

Shifting a little under the kind stare of the doctor, Dean grimaced and looked away with a small shrug. 'Been a bit of a rough week, guess it all got on top of me a little and I hit something.' The doctor gave a small tut before caressing his shoulder softly.

'You shouldn't feel like you have to go to these extremes just to feel better Dean, there are people that can help you get through a rough time without hurting yourself or resorting to physical violence.' Dean just shook his heads against the words, he could just imagine what his dad would be saying to this right now. That his son didn't need no damn shrink to make him feel better, that only killing demons and other things that went bump in the dark would.

Even if deep down Dean did want to accept the help, he could never hide the ridicule that would taunt him in John's voice at the back of his mind. 'I will leave a number with your father to give a call to, whether you want to or not it is hospital policy to make sure someone gets professional help if they have been hurting themselves in anyway.'

'Thanks.' He muttered softly as the doctor turned away and left his small curtained cubicle.

'Bobby Singer?' She called; a gruff man in a baseball cap shot up from his chair like a rocket from the launch pad and bound towards her keenly.

'How is he?' The older man's voice was gruff with concern, his eyes pleading for good news.

'He is doing okay at the moment. We gave him something for the pain when he woke up, I will allow you and your son to go through after he has been for his scan and we find out what's happening here.' Bobby nodded, thankful.

'Can I ask how your youngest got his broken leg? Dean also commented on a broken rib, and I couldn't help but notice the cut healing around his hairline.'

'The boys were in an accident, a few counties over. Crashed their car on the way back from a little weekend trip.' Doctor Naomi nodded in acceptance of the story. 'How come I have never seen your sons in here before? I recognise you a little, from a few small incidents but I didn't take you as the kind to have children?'

'My wife divorced me years ago, but she died recently and the boys have been handed over to me now. I've taken them under my wing graciously. You must be new here though, because those boys get in to more trouble than I am willing to admit sometimes.' Bobby swiped a hand beneath his baseball cap. 'Trust me, they been in here plenty of times.' Naomi smiled and nodded.

'I just arrived a few months back. Your sons must be quiet the daredevils then?' She asked as the man's youngest came over, swaying a little on his crutches. 'Hi there, you must be Sam? Dean was asking about you before, you two must be close?'

Sam nodded his young eyes eager for information on his brother. 'He has just gone in for scans but how about we get you two set up in his room while you wait for him to return? Would you like a wheelchair while you're in here Sam? You were looking a little unsteady there before.' Sam nodded thankfully.

'I hate using these things; maybe if I was little more grown in to my own body it would be easier.' Naomi laughed at the teenager's admission.

**SPNSPNSPN**

'Okay Dean results are back!' Bobby and Sam's heads shot up quickly as Naomi walked in to their little cubicle. 'Looks like you have a perforated ulcer in your stomach.' Bobby looked at her a little shocked.

'Isn't that something men my age suffer from? Dean's only eighteen years old?' He asked in a little disbelief of the diagnosis. 'Also isn't that something that has to grow over time?'

'Well if the doctors were thorough after your sons accident last week they should have found and cured it then.' All faces turned to Dean then, for some kind of answer to the problem but he just looked away, embarrassment burning his face.

'Dammit Dean!' Sam moaned. 'Why didn't you tell us?' Dean just shrugged his shoulders, wincing at the pain the movement caused. 'What causes them doctor?' Sam asked, turning his doe eyes on her.

'Large amounts of stress and anti-inflammatory medication, poor diet. But at this point, judging by the current state your hands are in I am going to lean towards stress. Your father said you lost your mother recently? This is a reasonable cause for stress to build up and result in something like this.' Dean just nodded his head, taking in the information without batting an eyelid.

'What do we know doc?' Bobby removed his cap and settled it in his lap.

'We operate and repair the ulcer, treat with anti-biotic and target the main cause of the problem and diet to stop this from occurring again.'

'Do you mean counselling?' Bobby asked, a little concerned about Dean's opinion on something like that.

'Yes, or maybe even a psychiatrist. Your son seems to be holding in a lot of pain, and again I can't stress enough the damage this can do to a body. Not just with the ulcer, but also the degree of injury he has done to his hands. We had them x-rayed earlier and he has broken two knuckles and several bones of the lower finger. He is going to need metal rods, and a knuckle completely replaced.'

Swallowing, Bobby remembered the rusty stain inside the dent of the car Dean must have been hitting, the way the blood was still dripping from his fingers when he found him, almost catatonic against the cars. He nodded, 'We will make sure he gets the help that he needs.' Bobby reached out and wrapped a hand around Dean's forearm. 'Wont we son?' Dean just nodded and looked away, eyes watering.

**What do you think?! Reviews would be lovely please and thank you :D **

**Poor Dean! I couldn't help it, I always wondered what would happen if Dean ever caved to his mental issues and figured I would grasp them early! A lot of drastic changes are coming for his life, of his admission. Just wait for the fall out with John! Dun Dun Dun!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. I hope you enjoy!**

**I am not a medical person, so don't quote me on any conditions or jargon in this :D**

**4**

_3 Days Later…_

'There are a few houses on the market at the moment that I reckon you boys would have a chance at getting in to, but I thought I would put something out there first.' Bobby was resting back in a comfortable day chair; Dean had been sitting in it when he had come in to visit but not long after he returned to bed to eat his meagre lunch. The boy was on the mend, physically. And for that Bobby was more than glad. But mentally the boy was still a wreck.

Bobby knew that at the moment a lot of that weighed on his father, John Winchester. The man was still MIA and hadn't bothered to so much as a return a call for Bobby or Dean. It was tearing the young man in half, and infuriating Bobby to the world's end that the man could be so cold and cruel.

Over the past few days Bobby had even found him-self, on some level hoping John was laid up somewhere half dead or in coma for not contacting the boys for this long, or abandoning them in that hospital.

Dean didn't respond his eyes focused on something he couldn't see on the ceiling. 'I would appreciate it a lot if you boys would consider moving in with me. It would do Sam to have somewhere familiar to stay, and as for you… Well Dean I think it's more than obvious you need this more than your kid brother right now.'

'And what about dad? What do we do when he comes crawling back in to our lives and orders us back on the road again? What happens then?' Dean's voice was rising in anger. 'Do we pull Sammy out of school again? Do I quit my job if I get one? Do we just pack up and wait for the next time he abandons us or leads us in to another near death or debilitating situation that no thirteen year old should have to see?' He was silent for a moment, teeth clenched. 'What do we do then Bobby? Because right now I can't even look at Sam without seeing how much I have failed him through all this.'

'How have you failed him Dean? That kid wouldn't be half the boy he is now if it weren't for how you raised him!' Dean's words tore through Bobby.

'I failed him the moment I took him and followed dad's orders and became his perfect little soldier after mum died. The moment I raised him in to this life instead of doing something, all the lying and the stealing. No kid should be raised like that!' Dean growled, slamming his weak fists against the bed.

'What about you though Dean…' Bobby questioned, how could someone be so selfless they didn't see their own pain? 'You were raised the same way, the stealing and the lies. You were left no choice and forced to grow up far too quickly after suffering a child's greatest lost. Where do you stand in all this?'

'Dammit Bobby I don't matter! I was old enough to make a decision after that night and I chose not to! I deserve to suffer like this for being so simple minded and ignorant Sammy doesn't! He's smart and deserves a life better than anything this one can ever lead to!' Dean was yelling now, sitting up in the bed. Bobby sat thin lipped in rage at John.

Dean threw his legs over the edge of the bed, wincing when the stitches in his stomach pulled but he didn't care, he needed out of this suffocating room and Bobby's hard hitting words. He didn't want to face this right now; any exit was an exit right now. Anything than to have to have this conversation.

Because no matter what Bobby said to him, how hard he tried Dean would never see things the same way. He would never matter, and never had. All John saw was revenge and Sam. Dean was just someone to order around and baby sit and train when it was easier for him.

'Sit back down ya idjit!' Bobby cursed as Dean stood up and swayed, healing or not Dean was still weak and lethargic, not fully recovered. But the teenager was adamant in walking away from the conversation and ignored Bobby as he held his bandaged and casted hands to his chest and shuffled away.

Not standing for this behaviour, Bobby stood and took two long strides to catch up to Dean and wrapped a hand around his bicep. Dean froze beneath his touch before shrugging him off, slamming an elbow in to Bobby's rib and moving at a faster pace, using his momentary opening to get ahead as much as he could as Bobby sputtered behind him. 'Dean!' He growled.

'Dammit Bobby leave me alone!' He stammered back, leaning against the wall for support when he left the room. His whole body was shaking with emotion and exhaustion but all Dean wanted was to get away, drink a bottle of Jack and find some hot chick to bang until he was so far gone it didn't matter what happened the next day, or the one after that.

It didn't take long for Bobby to catch up to him again though, and Dean turned on him violently, swinging a casted fist in the older man's direction. Bobby deflected easily enough and grabbed the youth by the upper arms- shaking him slightly to get him to look him in the face somehow.

'Leave me alone Bobby!' He struggled uselessly against the stubborn grip, turning his face away from the movie of emotions that were showing on Bobby's face.

'Dean…. What's wrong?' Struggling men stopped dead at the small voice, dripping with tears and screaming of teary congestion and nasal tones. 'What are you doing?' They looked around at Sam, standing in the middle of the hallway supported by his crutches, sniffling audibly. 'Why are you both fighting, what aren't you telling me?!' He cried voice loud and shrill.

All the energy seemed to leave Dean at the same moment Bobby released his grip on his arms and he sank to the ground quickly, shivering against the wall as Sam gave him the death glare from across the hall. 'Why can't you just accept help for once Dean? I'm not the only one suffering here! I can't keep going if you aren't there Dean, and putting on this brave front and acting like nothing can get you, it's going to get you killed! It already nearly did, more times then I care to admit and- and-.' The poor kid stuttered to a stop as tears fell down his face in think tracks now, seemingly endless rivulets pooling from his eyes.

'I love you D-Dean, you're my big brother and my father and I don-don't know what I-I'd do wi-without you.'

For the first time, Dean was speechless as he leant against the wall, shivering weakly. Bobby knelt down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, supportively. 'It's time to take a break from that burden you carry Dean. You need a breather, let me take on some of this baggage just for a little while. And when it comes to what we discussed earlier, we cross that bridge when it comes to it okay?' Dean stared at him through glassy eyes; he couldn't take all this, the attention and the emotion. He wanted to shut down, not responding he looked right through the elder hunter.

'Dean?' Bobby shook his surrogate son roughly, hoping for some sort of reaction but he got nothing other than a blank stare. Panic swept through him as he held a hand to Dean's neck, relieved when he felt the thready pulse.

'Somebody help!' He turned and shouted when Dean's head pitched forward to his chest.

**SPNSPNSPN**

'I'm sorry Bobby; I wish I could say something more. But at this point in time we just have to sit and wait and be thankful at least, that at the moment he is responding to stimuli and breathing on his own.' Doctor Naomi delivered the news as simply as she could, but Bobby just wasn't taking it in his stride, but instead was stumbling over the news.

'I don't understand though… how does this just happen?' Bobby stammered, his hand clutching Sam's as the small limb quivered in his grasp.

'This really isn't my professional field, but when some people suffer a great emotional blow, before- after or even during an injury they can go in to a catatonic state which can result in a coma where the body shuts down. It's a defence mechanism of the body, to shy away from unwanted trauma it doesn't want to face.'

'So he is just going to stay like this until he decides it is safe again and he can come back to us?' Bobby asked disbelief obvious in his eyes.

'I am afraid so, the scans show no damage to the brain or anything indicating some sort of head trauma at all. This is a clearly, text book through and through psychological coma.' Naomi looked away. 'I really wish there was more I could offer…' Bobby shook his head.

'Thanks for everything Doc…' Naomi gave Sam a comforting squeeze on the shoulder, shook Bobby's hand and left the family to be with their son. She had seen cases like this where the patient didn't pull through and fell claim to their emotional boundaries and succumbed to their comas and just died. She prayed in this case, it would be different though. She somehow dated either of his family members could take a blow like that.

_Three Weeks Later…._

Dean was dreaming of his mother, of her soft face and blonde hair that framed her beautiful face and dazzling blue eyes. He was dreaming of her hold as she rocked him back and forth in her arms as he cried softly, even though he didn't know what he was crying about he couldn't seem to stop. Even with Marry humming and rocking him it didn't help.

She spoke to him to, cryptic words like wake up, and open your eyes. She willed him to go back, but he didn't know where back was and he didn't care. Even if he was sick of crying and not understanding why…

'Come one Dean, wake up please?' Sam muttered. He was up on the bed with Dean, curled in to his side as much as the equipment surrounding his brother would allow him. Three days ago he had been placed on a machine to help him breathe; tubes were pumping water and food in to his brother, chords monitoring his brain waves and heartbeat.

'I miss you Dean…' Sam whispered as he drifted to sleep beside his brother.

'_I miss you Dean…' _The words drifted through Dean's subconscious, he knew that voice…. Could recognise the need in it. He knew the need was for _him_.

'Morning Dean, I brought you a cup of coffee again in case you woke up. Bloody sleeping beauty that you are.' Bobby grumbled in his deep voice. He had taken to bringing two cups of coffee in with him every day now, _just in case_.

Dean could smell coffee, it was so tantalising. He felt his eyes twitch beneath their closed lids for a moment, before he sank back down in to the dark again, where he cried for no reason and tried to understand everything around him. He knew he had to go back, but he didn't want to face anything yet. _Not yet._

_Four Weeks Later_

The doctors were close to giving up. Despite being thirteen, Sam understood that much. Dean's health was declining. The surgical wound from the perforated ulcer still hadn't healed, having become infected three days in to Dean's coma. It had been operated on to drain cysts and repair dead tissue four times now. He was losing both weight and muscle mass, and the longer he was on the breathing equipment the more reliant he became.

Tears dripped down Sam's cheek and rolled off his chin, splattering against Dean's hollow cheeks. He felt empty and lost, and on top of it all their dad hadn't been in touch with them once. Sam had been using Dean's phone to sneak in calls, but he hadn't found the courage to leave a voicemail though. Not bothering to wipe the tears away, nobody was going to see them anyway; he rested his damp cheeks on Dean's bony shoulder and sobbed himself to sleep.

Dean couldn't take the sound of his little brother crying. His eye lids felt heavy and leaden as he struggled to open them against the onslaught of light and skin that sat above his misused retinas and eyeballs. By the time they reached mere slits, he felt exhausted and wanted to shut them again. But he couldn't.

With his eyes open, the sound of his brother crying was louder than ever and he could feel the shaking weight of Sammy on his chest, heavy and constricting. Dean tried to speak, to get Sam to move off his chest so he could breathe again; but something was down his throat, taped to the side of his mouth so he couldn't speak. It was pouring cold, disgusting oxygen in to his lungs forcefully, painfully.

Grunting, he felt his heart rate rise in shock as he struggled to move against his body's will but he just felt so damn heavy and couldn't do it.

'Dean?' Sammy mumbled somewhere below his chin, voice thick with tears. Then his face was there, pale and prematurely aged for a thirteen year old boy but there all the same and Dean would have smiled if he could. 'Dean?' His brothers eye brows shot up as he climbed backwards off the bed and ran from the room. Dean could hear him screaming for help and wondered what all the fuss was about as he struggled to breathe against the tube down his throat.

'Mr Singer?' A familiar face suddenly hovered over his again, sweet perfume filling his nose as he recognised her from the doctor who had been treating him before he went to sleep. Dean wondered just how long he had been asleep. 'I need you to stop struggling around the breathing tube so I can remove it for you okay Dean?' He nodded weakly, and braced himself against the horrid feeling of the tube sliding roughly out of his dry throat.

Despite how uncomfortable it had been for the tube to go in, Dean was glad for it to be out. He licked his lips, wincing at how dry and horrible his mouth and throat felt now. 'Water?' He rasped, wishing he didn't feel so damn weak and pathetic.

'Maybe some ice chips, water could be too much for you at the moment. Do you know how long you have been unconscious for Dean?' He shook his head. 'Four weeks, nearly put your father in an early grave I reckon. Bobby has barely left your side all these weeks.' He felt his eyes go wide at the revelation.

Weight tipped the side of the mattress slightly as Sammy climbed on and knelt beside him, reaching out and gripping his hands as tears poured down his smiling face. 'Sammy…' His voice felt misused and foreign.

'Was starting to think you were going to leave me behind.' Sam cried, squeezing Dean's hand tightly. Dean simply shook his head and smiled softly, eyes sliding shut against his will. 'Dean wait no!' Sam called, scared.

His eyes shot open in response and he looked around, blinking wildly to try and lose the sleep laden feeling. 'Not going anywhere squirt…' Dean was more than pleased to have managed nearly a whole sentence already.

'Mother of-.' Three heads turned as one toward the voice, Bobby stood agape in the doorway as the coffee cups slid from his grasp and the old hunter stood in shock, facing down the opaque green eyes looking back at him, exhausted and bewildered.

**TBC**

**Drama anyone :D I do love playing with Dean. Who would like to see Dean take Bobby up on his offer to move in with him? **


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. I hope you enjoy!**

**5.**

'Now I know Sam ain't in here right now, but when you see him next try and act like you really appreciate this.' Bobby warned Dean as he supported the young adult up the stairs. Though he had been given the all clear to leave the hospital, five days after waking from his coma; Dean was still weak and lethargic.

Pushing the door open, Bobby stepped aside to let Dean enter first and watched keenly for Dean's reaction when he came in to full sight of the bedroom. His eyes alit in shock, lingering over every poster tacked to the wall for long moments as he took in the bedroom. 'It was something to keep Sam out of my hair while you were still in the hospital.' Bobby shrugged in response to the look Dean was giving him. 'He said you wouldn't mind if he took the posters out of your duffle and put them up, especially the ones of the ladies.' Bobby gestured to the few women scattered amongst the many posters of cars, barely dressed and posed seductively.

'Took him the whole damn time you were away to clean the bloody room, mind you some of that blame can go on me for letting it get this way.' Dean nodded, looking a little confused. 'All your stuff has been put away, but you can go through and organise it how you want after. Right now you can lay down have a sleep. The doctors said you will need to get as much rest as you can, part of your release terms.' Dean just nodded and moved towards the bed like a zombie.

Though the boy was on the mend, there was still a lot to go. 'The nurse will be here tomorrow to tend to yer dressings and such but until then I think you should stay in bed. We can bring you meals up here but otherwise no getting up unless for the bathroom.' Dean nodded a little sullenly, casting his gaze to linger a little on one of the girls. For the first time Bobby noticed this busty blonde was completely topless, firm breasts sitting perkily.

Shaking his head Bobby took his gaze away from the poster with a small blush to his cheeks, if he had known Sam was working with a poster like that in his sights then he would have taken it away until the end. No thirteen year old should be allowed to look at something like that.

'Thank you for doing all this Bobby…' Dean mumbled as he sank on to the bed, noticing with a deep breath that the sheets were freshly cleaned and crisp. It brought a small smile to his face as he imagined this was what a real bedroom looked like, one that was lived in by teenagers and other eighteen year old boys. Right down to the magazines Sam had taken from the bottom of his duffle and placed on the bedside, though the sheathed knife and put .45 weren't exactly the normal, it made Dean feel just as much at home as everything else did.

'Don't mention it Dean.' Bobby clapped Dean on the shoulder with a smiled, pleased to see Dean accepting the change heartily. The kid would need something solid like this in his life from now on, the doctor had spoken to him about it earlier on in the morning, warning Bobby how fragile Dean's state of mind was. He was lucky that Dean hadn't been moved to a psychiatric ward when he had woken up.

Looking down Bobby smirked, Dean was already out cold. There were small moments of fear still, that flickered in his heart and Bobby often found he had to restrain himself from shaking Dean awake to make sure he was still there and hadn't drifted away from them again. 'Rest easy kid.' He shuffled the kid's hair before leaving the room, moving on to his next more pressing issue at hand.

'Sammy?' He called out as he came down the stair, Bobby didn't have to call again though as a head popped out from the fridge, an earnest expression aging the young features as he opened his mouth to ask how Dean was, but Bobby held up a hand to silence him before he could.

The last warming rays of a dying autumn sun were cascading through the grimy kitchen windows and dancing across the dirty dishes, weapons and numerous books and papers scattered across the kitchen table. Bobby sighed a she remembered what the table had once looked like, a grand piece of polished mahogany furniture that glowed and retained the heat of a summers day.

'Come and sit down for a minute Sam, I have something I need to discuss with you.' Bobby pulled an equally grimy chair out from the table and motioned for Sam to sit down next to him for a chat. He made a mental note to do something about the mess; he couldn't have the boys living in squalor like this. It was different when he was alone, but now he had company and teenagers to look after. And raising them in filth was not an option. He couldn't begin to imagine what his wife would think about the state of the house, and raising children in it.

'What's wrong Bobby, is Dean okay?' Sam asked quickly, looking up at him expectantly.

'Nah, sleeping beauty is fast asleep in bed. Didn't even get a chance to properly get under the covers so I did my best to keep him warm. Will wake him up in the next few hours for some lunch though.' Sam nodded, smiling sadly as the momentary fear left his eyes. Bobby wondered how long it would be before either of them felt easy in regards to Dean falling asleep.

'Now before I went and picked up Dean I stopped by the school and discussed having you enrolled and they seem more than happy to take you, especially pleased with the thought you may even be placed in the advance classes.' Bobby had been hoping for a positive response but Sam just stared at him blankly, almost as if he wasn't taking in anything Bobby had just said. 'You hearing me kid?'

'Why bother Bobby? As soon as Dean's better he's going to want to hit the road, or dad is going to call and have us packing and on the move again. Either way, there is no way we are going to be here any longer then maybe another week, and I don't see the use in getting involved in school for that little of time. Sorry you went to all that hassle Bobby, but there's no point.'

Bobby was dumbstruck. He had _not_ been expecting that response. All of a sudden all the rage and anger towards John Winchester relit within him and he was standing up violently, the chair scooting backwards behind him as he slammed his fists down on the dirty table and growled. Sam stood up quickly in shock as Bobby wrapped a hand around a mug and threw it at the wall. Breathing heavily he stalked out of the room before coming back to face a stricken Sam who was cowering in front of him now.

Raising his hand, he opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of air for a minute before stuttering out something. 'I don't care what Dean says, or if your daddy comes waltzing back in here demanding it's time to go. This is it; I am putting my foot down and doing what I should have done long ago!' Bobby growled. 'You boys are stuck with this grumpy old man till I say so and you better get used to it or so help me God…' Bobby petered out when he noticed the tears running down Sam's face and the way he was worrying at his lower lip and wringing his hands.

'Ah dammit kid come here, I didn't mean to make you cry.' Bobby moved forward and pulled Sam in to a back breaking hug as he cried against his stomach.

'Dean won't stay no matter what…' Sam sniffled out, moving his head to the side just enough to get enough air to form words.

'Dean can speak for himself, and maybe he wants you to settle down and have an education and friends for just once in your life.' Bobby and Sam turned as one to confront Dean who was leaning, albeit, shakily against the wall for support as he looked up at them both through hooded green eyes covered by long lashes that fanned across his pale, freckled cheeks.

'Dean…' Sam mumbled, hastily wiping away his tears.

'It's okay Sammy, even though I know how hard it's going to be; this has to happen. I can't afford to clock out like that again, who would kick your girly ass for blubbering all over the place?' Dean shuffled over and sank in to the chair Sam had exited in his fright and sank back against it with a weary sigh, a hand over his stomach where the bandages sat thick and heavy over his body. 'The least we can do is try okay?' Sam nodded, and stepped away from Bobby awkward now.

Half an hour later saw both boys in bed, asleep. Sam was snuggled in to Dean's side as they both slept peacefully. Bobby smiled at them. It was going to be bumpy. But at least they had started down the road now.

**:D What do you all think? Reviews please, more drama to come. Who is dreading when John shows his sorry face?**


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. I hope you enjoy!**

**6.**

Rain was falling in sheets against the window panes; Dean sat there staring out them as Bobby sat behind him reading the newspaper, rustling the pages with a huff or grunting in annoyance at some small article he disagreed with. The days were a lot quieter without Sam around since he started back at school again, the kid was excitable and hard to contain each afternoon he came home to recount each class or new possible friend.

Dean found himself realising it was lonely, and this was only the first week of many years to come if Bobby was going to stick to his words to take the boys under his wing. He found it hard to fathom, that they would be here for more than just their usual month or so. Even with his rehabilitation to regain strength and muscle mass, there wasn't a lot to do.

Even though Bobby was promising him each day, after their exercise regime; which left Dean feeling weak and depleted despite how little they were doing- that soon when he was stronger things would pick up.

Keeping that in mind, Dean used it to force himself to go harder. That and the reminder that if Dean wasn't capable then who would look after Sam? 'Bored.' He moaned, letting out a long sigh that fogged up the glass in front of him. _Since when did time go so slow_?

'You could start cleaning up this kitchen if you wanted?' Bobby offered, a hopeful brow shooting up over the paper as he gave Dean an amused look. He hadn't expected the youth to nod and slide off his spot on the window sill and move towards the table with a garbage bag in tow. 'Really?' He sputtered in shock.

'Sam might want to have people over one day, which means people who don't live like us that don't know you're not a messy insufferable drunk with a bad temper and lots of guns and weapons.' Dean mused as he swiped an arm full of takeout containers and old newspapers in to the large black garbage bag that swallowed them up in return. 'So from now on, I guess we will have to be a little more hospitable.'

Nodding in understanding, Bobby stood up and placed the paper on his seat and moved towards the sink, rolling up his sleeves. Dean had a good point, there was going to be many times when one of the boys was going to want to invite guests over, be it the female or younger male kind the house was going to have to change. 'Nobody touches the study though, that room stays the same. Need that space for work.' He vowed, casting a wary eye at Dean in concern.

Though the youngest Winchesters were stepping down from hunting, Bobby couldn't afford to. There were too many that relied on him to supply them with endless support and research. When Dean didn't react the way he thought he might he shrugged it off with little concern. Turning to the dishes he got stuck in to them as Dean walked around the room and picked up all the rubbish and sorted out all the recycling in an old crate sitting in the corner.

By the time the room was half finished, Bobby was impressed. As the dishes drip dried in the rack he cast a look around the expansive kitchen and nodded. All the years of living from small motel room to dingy rent by the month apartment, showed in his cleanliness skills. It was obvious he kept the rooms clean and clear of clutter, organised as were the weapons sitting on the kitchen table in groups from knives to shot guns.

However the clean Winchester was sinking in to a seat with a small groan, holding his stomach and Bobby moved in to instant mother mode and fussed over him. 'Done too much?' It wasn't really a question, so he wasn't surprised when Dean ignored him and closed his eyes for a moment, perspiration beading on his forehead. Bobby lifted his surrogate son's arms from his stomach and lifted the shirt, there were small specks of blood on the bandages, not all uncommon but still an unwelcome factor.

'Should go have a lay down, even just on the couches if you can't make it upstairs, have a bit of a rest.' Bobby was prepared for a fight but Dean was like a pliable putty in his hands and even let Bobby ease him out of the couch and support him to the sofa, and continued to let him put a blanket over his shivering thin frame before leaving the room.

If he wasn't alarmed before, Bobby was now as he moved back to the kitchen and sank in to a chair. Resting his head in his palms as he leant forward, he tried to make sense of what was going on with Dean. _Wasn't he on the mend by now? _He considered getting up and going back to the lounge room, questioning him about it but thought better, Dean needed his rest right now.

Agreeing with himself that he would deal with it after dinner, Bobby stood up and began carrying the weapons to his study before moving to clean all the benches and pile all the rubbish bags by the recycling. When the rain stopped he would take them out, but for now he would focus on getting everything back to how it used to be. No dust or cobwebs, just clean and bare surfaces.

When he got half way through cleaning, Bobby froze mid-scrubbing of the stove top and felt it dawn on him. Dean was using cleaning to distract himself, just like Bobby was now so he didn't think about what was troubling the young teen.

Not that Bobby was all that surprised, he was rather glad actually that Dean was using something a lot less dangerous to keep his mind off his thoughts of the future. And he couldn't blame him either, if it were Bobby in either of the boys shoes he would be scared too. John was a guilt tripping, selfish bastard that should have spared the boys from the life they had been leading. If John had seen common sense just once in his simple minded life, Bobby thought, he could have taken the boys in himself or they could have gone to a foster home.

Though that held fears too, the boys could have been separated and lived completely different lives. Leaving Bobby oblivious to their existence and that left an empty hollow in his heart as he ached over the thought. How empty and bitter he would still be, without those Winchester children in his life to keep him above the surface of misery and empty alcohol bottles which held no answers to him at all.

The sound of the phone ringing brought him out of his reverie. 'Singer.' He drawled.

'Hey Bobby… I know I am meant to catch the bus home but it's really wet and cold. I was wondering if you and Dean might have wanted to come pick me up.' Sam's small voice came over the line, the sound of the rain making it slightly difficult to hear.

'Of course son, we will be there soon.' Bobby hung up and moved towards the lounge room, Dean was tossing and turning in the throes of a nightmare, hands clutching his stomach as he bit down on his bloody lips he was tugging at them so frightfully.

'Come on ya damn idjit time to get up.' Bobby teased as he loosened Dean's death grip on his stomach and shook the kid awake. His eyes opened to slits, a hint of green peeking through his draping lashes. 'You alright son?' He questioned, seeing the last dredges of whatever horrors had just passed through his mind slip away as he blinked dazedly, licking his lips with a slight wince.

Pushing himself up from the sofa, Dean rubbed his eyes and winced as his stomach pulled a little. 'Yeah…' He muttered, doing his best to avoid eye contact with Bobby. Distraction had worked up until he had gotten too tired, and crashed. He wasn't prepared to face the dreams, the confrontations or the letdown faces of people that were dying because he had bowed down. The look on his father's face when he confronted him about it, the way death took their milky white stand in John's eyes, and drained the colour from his face as blood seeped out from wounds Dean wasn't there to stop from happening.

'Look Dean….' Bobby began but Dean held up a hand and shook his head.

'What's up Bobby?' Dean was quick to change the subject as he swung his legs over and yawned.

'Sam wanted us to go and pick him up, but if you're not feeling up to it you can wait here? Maybe start something for dinner?' Dean nodded and let his head hang low. 'Now don't go messing it up though, spent the good part of your beauty sleep cleaning up.' Dean laughed shortly, imitating his father as he pulled a hand through his hair and then down his face, a weary sigh escaping his lips as he pushed himself up from the sofa.

Shuffling in to the kitchen Dean was surprised to see it in such a good state, _who said you need a woman in your life to keep a clean kitchen? _'Damn Bobby, do we need to get you an apron and a fluffy pair of kitchen gloves now?' Bobby smirked as he came and stood by Dean and took in his handiwork. The kitchen was pretty damned clean now.

It was nice to see the place looking so neat. It hadn't been this way since…. Bobby looked away from the shining bench tops and struggled against tears in his eyes. 'I shouldn't be gone too long.' He clapped Dean on the back before leaving the room, keys jangling in his hands.

Standing alone in the kitchen, Dean huffed and pulled the fridge open. The past week they had been living out of takeout venues, so when he opened the fridge to find it fully stocked with vegetables he was a little taken aback. Even if they did look like tonight was going to be their last meal, it was nice to have something to work with. Dean hoped the freezer was just as well stocked, and he wasn't let down as he pulled out three large rib eye steaks and placed them on a plate. They would need to be defrosted, but for now sitting on the mantle of the fireplace would have to do.

Taking out several vegetables Dean hummed ACDC to himself, enjoying the sound of the rain offering white noise in the background. For the first time that week he felt actually at home, cooking a meal for his family. It was an oddly peaceful feeling Dean wanted to hold on to for the rest of his life, he found himself looking forward to Sam and Bobby returning to join him.

There was this nagging voice in the back of his mind, taunting Dean with the truth. Things weren't going to stay like this, they were going to crumble around him and he knew it. The hammer to his happiness came in the form of his father, when he showed up and tore them down.

Substance to the nightmares plaguing him at night, John ruled his life even without being around and Dean hated that. He was desperate to regain some individuality in his life, but there was always that nag in the back of his mind about John coming back and taking it all away.

Dean pushed it all to the back of his mind and kept cooking their dinner, he was determined to make this work. For Sammy.

**So how is it going? A little bit of a slow chapter, I know but I thought before I brought John in to it I would show some of the emotional (and physical pain to come!) affecting Dean with this new change. Even a little bit of hurt Bobby in there as he remembers his lovely wife. **

**I am considering doing a half and half chapter next, one from Dean's POV and the other from Sam's because its due to be affecting him too. Let me know :D **


	7. Chapter 7

**I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. I hope you enjoy!**

**7.**

**Thank you everyone for your lovely words and kind reviews and showing keen interest in this story. Your response is the only thing we get out of writing fanfiction so it means a lot, even when people favourite or follow. Thank you lovelies :3**

It's the first time Sam gets to have people over, and he can barely contain his excitement as he bounces on the heels of his feet and watches for the Impala, and Dean. Beside Sam his new best friend is just getting off the phone with his mum, arranging to be picked up from Bobby's when they are finished. Just as he is about to turn and say something to Tom, Sam sees the Impala and breaks out in a wide smile as he waves erratically at his older brother who smiles back way too coolly and pulls up alongside the curb.

'Hey Dean!' Sam's squeak, his excitement almost tangible now. 'This is Tom, Tom this is my big brother Dean!' Sam pulls the backseat open and piles in as Tom follows him with a soft greeting to Dean who smiles and nods hello back at him as they pull away. Sam strikes up a conversation with Tom quickly, grinning every so often at Dean in the rear-view mirror.

'Did you kids want to stop off at the supermarket and pick up some chips or anything? Think I cleared out the last of the snacks last night.' Dean asks, slowing down as they near the local supermarket, where by now Sam and Dean are easily referred to as locals as they stroll the aisles each week with Bobby.

'Couldn't sleep again?' Sam gives Dean the early stages of his bitch face, unimpressed that his brother still isn't getting through the night without waking up fretfully, unable to get back to sleep till early in the morning. Sam sometimes heard him sneak back in to his bedroom just shy of dawn before getting up again to help Sam get ready for school.

'Late night horror movie fest if you must know.' Dean shot back with an eye roll. 'So, snacks?' Sam nods and looks to Tom who nods too with a smile.

'Can we get donuts?' Tom asks and judging by the approving look Dean shoots him from the front seat, he is impressed and warms to Tom straight away. 'And MnM's, those things are mint.'

'Amen to that!' Dean crows and they pull in to the parking lot. Sam's first out of the car with Tom fast behind him as they head towards the entrance of the grocery store. Dean trails along behind them silently, trying not to crowd their style as they head for the confectionary aisle.

As they idle past the array of sweets, Sam slows down for a moment to keep pace with Dean as Tom mulls over whether he wants crispy or peanut MnM's. 'Was there really a late night horror fest on Dean?' He gives his brother the full effect of the puppy dog eyes, and stares his older brother down. He can't help but notice the slight hollow of his cheeks, dark smudges from lack of sleep that shadow his green eyes and the way his lips are slightly gnawed on.

Sam takes all of this in because he knows it hasn't been easy on his brother, the past three months they had been bunkered down at Bobby's for the long haul. Reality became more intense the further along it got, and the less their father called. It bothered Sam to no end that their dad was still missing, but he knew it was harder on Dean.

But Sam couldn't hide his own irrational fears, some mornings he would wake with a heavy dread in his stomach; so sure his father would be there in the kitchen, haggard as he consoled a cup of coffee and only looking up to order him and his brother to pack their things and get ready to leave. Fear that they would have everything ripped out from under them violently. It was a mystery, where their dad was.

Swallowing, Sam longingly stared in to Dean's sleep deprived eyes and wished for their intensity back, for some truth just for once. Wished Dean would admit to hurting as much as Sam was over all this. Dean was Dean though, and he smiled with a soft glint in his eyes and slight cockiness to his features as he tilted his head to the side and ruffled Sam's hairs.

'Old school black and white horrors kiddos, things you wouldn't expect to the see on the big screen in your lifetime.' And then Dean is gone, walking down the aisle a little quicker as Sam's heart sinks a little and the fears eat at him a little more, reminding him this can only be temporary. His father had to be around that corner, waiting for the right moment to pounce and smash all this tranquillity to pieces.

As they drive back home, boot stocked with junk food galore, Sam thinks about how much he enjoys living like this. Likes having a bedroom to make his own, a family room and a dinner table to sit around and enjoy his dinner at, or tackle his homework on. Enjoys the home cooked meals over the take out menu or the laundry that doesn't require coins. This is what Sam dreamed of at night when they lived on the road, moving from hunt to hunt.

What he loved the most, though he would never admit it to Dean out of fear he would be mocked, was staying at the same school. He had never had a friend over before, he was a little unsure on he was meant to do when they got home, if they were meant to crash out on the lounge room floor and watch television, cartoons and movies. Or whether they should play in the yard, play hide and seek amongst the cars and throw a baseball or football around on the sparse grassy patch. Maybe they were supposed to hassle Dean and hang around him like lost puppies until he caved and did something with them.

Sam liked that idea, making Dean apart of something. Dean barely left the house and didn't seem to have made friends yet. Unlike Sam who had quite a few now. He even considered hassling Bobby with something like playing a board game with them as they pulled up in the drive way.

Slamming the door shut Dean stifled a wide yawn as he moved to the boot and popped it open, revealing the goodies. Bobby was going to skin him alive for bringing this much junk food in to the house. It was a fact they were both becoming more then aware of, that Sam was not so immune to high that came with a sugar rush. They tried to avoid loading him up with too much of it, as the three months had worn on, Dean had become more then aware of the change in his little brother.

Settling down in one place meant there was nothing to burn the sugar off on, no work out regimes or monsters too fight so Sam didn't have anything to burn off all the excess energy. Though he was still a lanky thin teen who needed to grow in to his body still, Dean didn't want to risk his little brother declining his health.

But today was a special day as Sam ran inside with his friend Tom, leaving Dean to face the shopping bags on his own, not that he minded. When he got them inside he was planning on going for a run, hoping to go long and hard. The exercise was long overdue, and he hated the thought of going out of shape. He wanted his muscle tone and ripped abs and solid muscle back, everything he had lost to the month long trauma of the coma.

Running a hand across his stomach, he could feel the indentation of the scar across his abdomen where the tissue had died away and been replaced by a form of replication padding inserted after his many infections. It was a morbid reminder. One Dean wished he could go without, but at the same time was glad for.

Yawning again, he moved inside with the bags and cast Bobby an apologetic look as the boys swarmed over the bags and ran back in to lounge room laden with sweets and soda. 'Getting him to sleep tonight is going to be impossible, you know that right?' Bobby laughed with a quirked eye brow, smiling at Dean in a fatherly way as he turned his gaze in a loving, paternal way to Sam as he hunkered down in front of the television and packet of chips on his stomach, propped up on his elbows. Tom an identical position beside him as a generic cartoon came on.

'Yeah well thought the kid could use a break, seeing as how this is his first you know…' And Bobby nods, understanding Dean all too well.

'Listen son, I heard you last night… if you need to talk about anything I'm here okay?' Dean nods at Bobby, red flush lighting up his pale features. Didn't think anyone had heard him last night, the pacing or the small whimpers as he had silently let slip a few stray tears. _Nightmares are a rotten bitch, _he thinks, shaking the image from his head.

'Why do you think dad hasn't been in touch?' He asks suddenly, unable to stop the questions from slipping free of his lips as he bites down on them hard, feeling the worn down skin give a little as a coppery taste seeps on to his tongue, lets his fierce grip go quickly. Bobby casts him a sad weary look, shakes his head.

'Wish I knew son, wish I knew. Better have a good god damned reason when he does though.' And Dean senses the anger and venom in the words, knows he isn't the only one with an issue with John fucking Winchester and his magical disappearing act. The one and only fucking Houdini. 'Is that what's keeping you up at night?' There is hesitance in Bobby's voice and Dean Wishes Bobby didn't sound so hesitant and unsure about talking to him, wishes he was more open and willing to talk; that people didn't approach him like a wild animal.

So Dean tries to be open. 'I don't know.' He tries really hard. 'Nightmares… I guess… Yeah nightmares.' He falters and flails about like a fish on dry land. Feels ashamed that something as simple as admitting he had a bad dream is so hard.

'Want to talk about it?' Dean's great full Bobby doesn't judge him, or comment on how stupid he sounds, strained.

'I just….' A pregnant silence follows, and Dean feels something give a little as he realises he is opening up a little. Doing what needs to be done, what he has never been able to do. He talks. 'I don't know what to do with myself Bobby, I think about going out and making a start at something but then it just comes back down to a phone call that I know is coming. I sit in my- my bedroom-.' He stutters on the foreign word, 'and consider changing it around, and then I think about when he comes back and it won't really matter.'

A hand comes down on his shoulder in a comforting gesture and Dean silently thanks Bobby. 'I know this isn't easy on Sam either, but he's taking it better than me and I want to be able to make this work for him so bad. But again, the phone call, or the arrival and everything can be diminished just like that.' He snaps his fingers in a sharp click and Sam looks over from the television, gets up and comes over.

'Everything okay Dean?' He asks in that teenage brother voice and Dean Smiles at him sadly and pulls him in to a rare and unusual one armed hug that he can tell sends Sam reeling as he leans in to Dean and smiles like a dork.

'Yeah squirt, it's all good. I'll be back in an hour though, going to go for a run. All this good foods making me fat.' He laughs even though he knows he's a good ten kilos under the healthy weight for his height and build. But Sam lets him get away with it and he's glad as Bobby nods and moves to unpack the rest of the groceries, puts them away as Dean goes to get changed.

Up in his bedroom, Dean Looks at his phone; he check for any missed calls and isn't surprised when he sees none. Pressing down the number three he speed dials his father, lifts the phone to his ear and waits patiently for it to click over to voice mail and takes a deep breath. He wants to tell his dad not to come back, not to call him when he finishes whatever the fuck has been more important to him then his children for four months, but he doesn't.

Instead he closes the phone and feels it slide from his grip and clatter on the floor and he sinks forward until his head is resting in his hands and feels moisture leak through his fingers. It's not until he slides down to the ground, legs hunched against his chest that he realises he is crying, really crying and letting loose. The sobs wrack through his body with a ferocity he isn't familiar with and they make him even sadder as it all hits home.

When the tears stop and he shakes against his bed frame, energy spent over the emotion he feels a little empty except for a flame of anger that was burning his stomach and moving upwards steadily. Anger towards his father for doing this to them, making it so they can't live without fear of having everything taken away.

Dean stands up, defiant. As far as he is concerned from here on out John Winchester is dead to him, and he hopes that man doesn't dare show his face here or even consider taking anything from him or Sam again. Not when they were both being offered the chance of normal, of a family.

He just hoped when John did return, he had the strength to hold up to his feelings.

**Any good? Slow again, I know. But I really wanted to get in to their emotions a little more before I put John in there. Though I am little unsure whether I want to slide him in to the next chapter, what do you guys think? **


	8. Chapter 8

**I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. I hope you enjoy!**

**8.**

**Thank you everyone for your lovely words and kind reviews and showing keen interest in this story. Your response is the only thing we get out of writing fanfiction so it means a lot, even when people favourite or follow. Thank you lovelies :3**

Exiting from the cave with an ungainly limp and a grimace across his bruised and blood encrusted features; John winced audibly and raised a hand protectively to his eyes to shield them from the sudden blinding onslaught of sun. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen sunshine, knew it had been longer then he cared to admit, flickering his eyes slowly in response to the harsh rays.

Stumbling the rest of the way from the woods, John slumped against the door of his truck in exhausted relief. Fumbling with the doorhandle he grumbled as he felt around his pockets, sighing dejectedly when he came to accept his keys were long gone. Looking around the abandoned parking lot for the reserve, he picked up a large rock and slammed it with his failing energy into the driver's side window.

Three hours later he pulled up at his motel, was shocked when the attendant announced he had been gone for three months now and the things from his room were being held in a lost property locker. John rented another room, collected his belongings and slammed the door shut. Ruffling through his belongings he put his phone on charge and moved towards the bathroom.

Slumping against the shower tiles, John sank down to the floor and sat there for ten minutes, letting the steaming hot water wash over his battered and bruised muscles, rotated the damaged tendons from the dislocated shoulder he had been forced to relocate himself. When the water started to cool, he stood up and scrubbed violently at his body with the soap and watched the water run coppery and mud streaked.

Stepping out and rooting for clean clothes, he raised his eyebrows in shock when the phone rang out the message tone numerous times, over and over again. Jogging to the bedside, t-shirt forgotten in his hand, John grabbed up the phone and read through all the texts.

The most recent one was three days ago, from Bobby. _"You better be dead, or have some good reason for doing this." _Eyebrows lost somewhere in his hairline now, John scrolled to the top of his messages and read the first one from Dean, asking where he had gone to. The next saying Sam wasn't able to leave the hospital for at least three more days, then the next a little more urgent, requesting orders.

Then the messages turned to voicemails, John almost didn't want to listen to them but he held them to his ear and listened patiently. John could hear the hurt in his eldest son's tone, the need to know where he was. It wasn't long before it was Bobby on the line, with bad news and John felt his stomach plummet when Bobby's gruff voice mentioned Dean was in the hospital for emergency surgery on a perforated ulcer, then a coma, Sam's shocked voice pleading with him to come back.

Pulling a hand down his face, John was sitting shell shocked. Dean had stopped calling all together now, so had Sam. It was only Bobby who left threatening messages, cursing him to the high heavens for putting his sons through so much emotional and physical trauma.

Turning the phone around in his hands, he bit his lower lip as he flipped it open, dialled Bobby's number and placed it against his ear. Nobody answered though, he was a little annoyed. Making plans to head over to Bobby's come tomorrow morning he sank back against the lumpy mattress and fell asleep quickly.

**SPNSPNSPN**

Bobby stared down at his mobile phone, John's name printed in bold pixelated letters across the screen. Everything was screaming at him to answer, to chew the older man out for all he was worth. But he looked over at Sam and Dean sitting on the sofa, afghan draped across their legs as they stared intently at the television. The boys had taken a liking to a daily evening drama about some top shot doctors, and rushed towards the television every night after dinner.

You could still smell the remains of dinner; Dean had gotten quiet good at cooking outside of the run of the mill motel kitchenette and canned goods. When supplied with fresh food and proper cooking tools the ability to bring together a good meal. It was definitely showing in Sam's growing frame, the way he was filling out all his lankiness. Dean on the other hand was losing what his brother was gaining as his appetite continued to deplete, unlike his overall mood which was climbing increasingly, especially since he had managed to gain himself a girlfriend.

Bobby just couldn't bring himself to answer the phone and bring John down on the boys right now, not when they were so happy and seemingly content. Even if Dean's nightmares were getting worse and more frequent or Sam was pestering him more and more about John's whereabouts. No, Bobby wanted them to be peaceful for a little while longer.

So instead he let the call ring out, picked up the bowl he had just made of popcorn and headed over to the sofa and sat between the boys. Sam rested his shaggy head on Bobby's shoulder and Dean leant in to him just a little with a sigh as they watched the television show together.

**SPNSPNSPN**

With the phone still not being answered, John paused to only have a quick breakfast and stock of coffee to keep him going for the long trip to Sioux Falls. Worry and concern over his boys wellbeing were starting to gnaw at the insides of his stomach now, it had been three months kept repeating over and over inside his head. A constant beat.

How could he have been so foolish to get trapped in a cave, being hunted by the thing he was hunting; it was an embarrassment. And now he was paying for that foolish mistake with the unknown condition of his children.

Pressing his foot down on the accelerator he threw his empty coffee cup on the floor with the rest of the rubbish and take out containers, intent on getting to Bobby's as quickly as he could.

**SPNSPNSPN**

Lounging outside on the ratty old arm chair he had dragged to the veranda, Dean sighed contentedly as he looked out on the car yard. Bobby and Sam had gone to see a movie, a way to pass the slow hours of a Saturday morning. Though Dean thought it might have been so he could have some alone time with his lady friend.

This was new territory for Dean, holding down a girl for more than a typical passing through one night stand he would normally go for. But this nineteen year old was a sight for sore eyes with her long blonde hair and grey eyes that san of happiness when she smiled at him. It was making staying in one place for so long, bearable to have her comfort.

On the nights they spent together, wrapped in each other's arms; Dean slept through the night peacefully. He liked to believe the safety of her arms wrapped around his chest kept the bad dreams at bay. Watching dust motes settle around the yard, imagining her hands caressing him his eyes drifted closed.

Dean stayed that way for an hour until the grumble of a loud engine drew him from his shallow slumber. Blinking open heavy eyes he shivered in the growing coolness of the afternoon, the spring afternoons losing their warmth in steady streams of damp winds and moody clouds. He was expecting the large truck that pulled in to view in front of a stream of billowing dust.

Unsure what to do with himself Dean felt his body sink back in to the chair in a weightless shock, he didn't stay there long though as John lumbered from the truck and approached him with a sharp bark of his name; bringing him to his feet quicker than a bird on a wire.

'Why didn't you wait for me at the motel?' John demanded, relief his son was okay quickly replaced by anger. Dean stammered in response, unable to answer as his tongue tied around any of the words he tried to get out.

'You better have a damn good reason son.' John demanded, voice rising in level with his anger as Dean just stood there and stared at him with a blank, pained expression. Bobby hadn't gone over what he should do when John turned up, how to approach him without caving in to him.

John stormed on to the veranda and grabbed Dean by the upper arm and steered him inside the house. 'Where's Sam? I want the two of you to pack your bags now so we can get a move on. Make sure you thank Bobby for having you here, it's time to go.' John said with a finality that made Dean shrink away from his grip and stand awkwardly by the sink.

'They are at a movie.' He mumbles in to his shirt, casting a nervous eye to the clock hanging above the bin, his girlfriend would be here within the hour and Bobby the next. That was two hours too long in Dean's mind as his dads eyes lit up in rage again.

'Well call them and tell them haul ass back here now, we don't have time to be sitting around. People to save, things to kill.' Dean just stood mutely, 'Move!' His dad all but screamed and he almost jumped out of his skin and did as he was told but he couldn't. The thought of tearing Sam away from this, when he had already made so many friends, and he had a few of his own. A job with Bobby in the yard.

'Did you hear me son?' Dean could see in John's eyes that he was working on a short fuse here; he nodded but didn't move or say anything. John took a menacing step towards him. 'Well then maybe you should get on the phone and make the call.'

'Can't it wait?' Dean was stalling wildly for time, gazing around the kitchen for something, anything he could use to steer his dad away from the conversation at hand. 'Sammy really wanted to see this movie, been hassling Bobby all week about it. Plus I have a girl coming around in an hour… You'd really like her.' He was grasping at straws now as he moved towards the coffee machine and lifted two mugs from their hooks and filling them with the inky substance.

Handing one to John he backed away and pulled out a chair at the table, sinking in to it. John had different plans though; his bruised face seemed to twitch as his anger became overwhelming and he threw the coffee cup against the wall where it shattered against the wall and left a dark stain to drip down the wall.

Standing up quickly, Dean picked up the phone and dialled Bobby's number and held it to his ear with a shaking hand. 'Hi Bobby, sorry to disturb you during the film but I need you to come home if you can, dads here.' Dean hung up with a quick see you soon and turned back to find John standing with his legs a little apart, arms crossed and glaring.

'Look dad… I know what this looks like.'

'Really? Because it looks like you've clearly betrayed everyone one of my rules here that you've cozied up in here like happy fucking families instead of moving on to the next hunt. And a girlfriend Dean, really? With the life we live you know that isn't possible.' John growled and sauntered up real close to Dean, imposing on his personal space and making him shrink backwards in to himself as John towered in front of him menacingly.

He hoped Bobby did tear ass back here, Dean didn't think his father was going to hold house much longer. Unfortunately, as he knew he was going to be; Dean was right. 'Did you want to see mine and Sam's rooms? Bobby let us do them how we wanted, since we have been here so long. Sam has his looking all nerdy, as expected. His friends love it though when they come over, just as much a nerd as he is.' Dean laughed offhandedly, casting a look in John's direction and was met with a withering stare.

'How much time do you think you will be spending here Dean? You know what our life is like, we don't just do stop overs for three fucking months a time, this is uncalled for and will only make it harder to get Sam back on the road again. You know he isn't like us.' Dean winced harshly, his whole body reacting to the movement as the words broke over him. His dad truly saw him as nothing but a perfect little sheep, a willing follower.

'It's not just Sam dad…' He murmured, looking down at his socked feet to afraid to meet his father's penetrating cold gaze.

'Excuse me, are you trying to tell me something here Dean?' And if it was possible John got even closer to him so he could feel John's breath tickle his hair slightly as he yelled at him.

'I don't know dad, am I?' The last of his courage seemed to leave him with those words and Dean wasn't ready for the sucker punch that caught him across the cheek and slammed his back against the sink before he sank to the ground in shock. His father had never hit him before, not once in his life.

Shuffling away instinctively he pushed his way up on his feet and staggered back, a hand caressing his already bruising cheek that was hot and swollen to the touch. _Hurry up Bobby, _he thought urgently. 'Look dad, you need to hear me out on this.' But John wasn't willing to hear him out as he took another swing, his fist slammed in to the same cheek and he heard more than felt the bone break beneath his knuckles as Dean's body slammed back and collapsed to the floor with a small squeak of pain which seemed to enrage John even more.

'You've been letting your guard down Dean; you look like shit, no muscle at all. What do you think you have been doing?!' John growled as he buried his foot in Dean's stomach and then his ribcage as he kept kicking. John knew he should stop, but it was driving him insane that his son wasn't protecting himself or doing anything at all.

Then it stopped, Dean opened bleary eyes, watering through the pain and saw Bobby grasping John by the waist before his view was cut off by Sam who had run in suddenly and thrown himself over Dean's prone body.

**What do you think? Please leave a lovely review. Next chapter should be Saturday (Aussie Time) Providing I get a good feedback. **


	9. Chapter 9

**I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. I hope you enjoy!**

**9.**

**Thank you everyone for your lovely words and kind reviews and showing keen interest in this story. Your response is the only thing we get out of writing fanfiction so it means a lot, even when people favourite or follow. Thank you lovelies :3**

Before John had the chance to react, Bobby pulled his fist back and slammed it in to John's face with an animalistic growl, rearing back to strike the oldest Winchester again when a strangled no pulled him up short and his eyes cast down to where Dean was clutching Sam to him as his little brothers tiny form shuddered with sobs.

'What the hell do you think you're doing John?' Bobby demanded of the man he had considered a good friend for a long time, an ally. Releasing his hold on John like a bad disease Bobby sank down to his knees and pried Sam away from Dean and cradled him in his arms, whispering soft words of comfort to the kid before asking him to help Dean to lounge room and lay him down on the sofa.

Once the boys had made their slow exit Bobby turned on John again with a menacing look that silenced anything John was about to say. 'You better have a damn good reason for showing up here after three fucking months without so much as a phone call, and then beating the shit out of your sick fucking son! Did you get any of the messages?' Bobby was on a roll now, unable to stop himself. 'Any of the messages about what happened to Dean, the coma or the _stomach _surgery? And I see you kick him in the stomach, right where he still has an open wound.'

Stunned silence hung in the air as John sighed and sank back against the wall where he sank down to his butt and rested his pounding head in his knees, reeling from Bobby's blow, physical and verbal. In truth he didn't know what had come over him, he had never struck either of his kids in that way, with the intention to hurt. He wanted to put it down to exhaustion from the drive, stress from being stuck in a cave for two and a half months, anything that could explain the misery and pain he had just laid in to Dean.

But there was no excuse, only blind rage because Dean was being evasive and wasn't following his orders. John wondered if he would have struck his son earlier if he hadn't always been so pliable. His thoughts were broken in to by Sam's small voice, directed at Bobby; his youngest son couldn't even look in his slumped direction.

'Dean's belly is bleeding…' Sam whispered in a small voice, tears still running down his cheeks. Bobby's heart broke, the kid's words reminding him just how young the thirteen year old really was.

'Go and get the first aid kit out of the study for me Sam, I will be right through.' Bobby turned around and opened the kitchen drawer and pulled out a pair of hand cuffs as Sam retreated. When he approached him, John looked up and raised his eye brows in question to the cuffs. 'You aren't getting out of this the easy way. Not going to give you the chance to rabbit on me because you can't handle what you just did, not this time John.' The older man's eyes overshadowed with memory.

Dean had been Sam's age when John had showed up with his sons, he had signed Dean out of the hospital AMA after he had been severely injured on his first hunt. John had been wracked with guilt and dumped the boys three days after his arrival and hadn't come back for two weeks. When he did arrive back he smelt of whiskey and sweat, his face a grizzled mess of depression and bar fights. Bobby wasn't going to let Winchester have that option again, not this time.

Cuffs in place, Bobby felt safe in leaving the room. When he stepped in to the lounge room his breath caught in his throat and his heart constricted at the sight that lay in front of him on the sofa. Dean was curled in on himself, clutching at his stomach with pinched features that were already starting to mottle and swell under the split skin and blood. It took a measurable amount of restraint not to march back in to the kitchen with a loaded shot gun and fill John Winchester with several rounds of rock salt, enough to make the man howl in misery.

For the second time Bobby shifted to his knees and placed gentle hands on Dean's forearms. 'You need to lay straight buddy, just like that, that's the way.' Bobby soothed gently as Dean's shaking frame slowly undulated.

Dean didn't know what hurt more, the pulsing ache from his cheek bone that was almost swelling his left eye shut, or the spreading pain being emitted from his stomach as he felt the warm stickiness of blood spread across his abdomen. Not unfamiliar with the feeling of freshly healed tissue and skin being torn open, Dean certainly didn't rate it high up on the list of things to repeat on a regular basis. His stomach felt like he had gone two rounds with a toying Wendigo.

Blinking bleary eyes up at Bobby he threw a hand out and clutched at his surrogate fathers shirt in pain and fear. 'Y-You never did tell me what to do- to do when he s-showed up.' Dean laughed shortly, coughing and gasping from the pain. 'Why…' Dean didn't understand why his father had hit him, he never had before, and Dean didn't think his father was that type of man. No matter how much he pushed his sons sometimes, he would never strike them in anger. It hurt more than Dean was willing to admit.

'I was stupid; thinking all of this could work. When all this,' Dean motioned to his battered body, 'is over we will pack up and get out of your hair. We shouldn't have brought this down on you Bobby… Sorry.' Dean swallowed thickly and pressed his head back in to the pillow Sam had put there for him, biting his lip through the pain till he felt blood trickle down his cheek. 'Maybe I can talk dad in to leaving Sam here with you… I can-can't have dad turning on-on him like this.' Tears rolled from Dean's good eye as he turned his head away from Bobby and let his hand fall from the old man's shirt to flop beside him.

'There is no way in hell I am letting either of you boys go with that man.' Bobby hissed. 'I should have put my foot down the first time he played hide and seek like this with you boys.' Bobby's face was scrunched in sadness and anger when Dean turned to face him. 'He's gone too far this time Dean.' Dean just nodded; he was too tired to try anymore, to keep fighting.

'Dean?' Sam squeaked from the doorway, almost hidden from sight by the bulk of the first aid kits he was carrying. Bobby stood up quickly and took most of the heavy kits from Sam with a wide eyed look of shock.

'Gee kid I said to grab one, not the whole god damn artillery.' Bobby laughed gruffly as he placed them down by the sofa. 'Doesn't matter though, good to be prepared.' He patted Sam on the head and lifted him up to sit on the arm of the sofa at Dean's head. 'Clean off the blood for me?' Sam nodded; eager to help.

'Dean?' They all froze at the female voice, Dean's good eye going wide in shock when he realised it was his girlfriend, calling timidly from the kitchen. 'Oh my God! Sir are you okay?' Bobby was on his feet in seconds, clearing the space to the kitchen in record time.

'Linda sorry about this, but would you mind going back home? As you can see we have a bit of a situation here.' Bobby waved his hand at John who was slumped against the oven, hands cuffed above his head. 'Dean will call you when he gets the chance, he's a little indisposed at the moment.' He took the young girl by the arm, unable to hide the smirk. Dean was in for a good time this afternoon he realised when he took in the girls jacket and the frilly lace that was poking above the collar.

'Uh is he okay, can I see him for a moment?' Linda asked, unconsciously pulling the large jacket around her body in response to the situation. 'Do you need me to call the police, did he break in?' She pointed at John, casting him a disdainful look.

'No, no it's okay Linda. Dean will call you tomorrow okay?' The eighteen year old nodded and backed out of the room. She paused at the door for a moment and gave Bobby one last questioning look before leaving.

'I swear you destroy everything you touch John Winchester.' Bobby hadn't meant for the words to slip past, didn't know if John had even heard them they were so quiet, but he couldn't help but believe them. It was hard to imagine how better off the boys would have been if John had simply left them in care.

Bobby could remember offering the man who sat across from him, hurt and broken as he nursed a beer, to take in his sons while he hunted for the demon that took the most important part of his small family away from them. But John had denied him the offer, growled at him how it wasn't his place and the boys deserved their chance at revenge. Even as Dean refused to speak and Sam cried and cried for a mother that wasn't going to nurse him ever again. It had broken Bobby's heart ear after year as he watched the boys grow up to be cold and violent.

Silently, Bobby made it his mission to revert the boys back to some sense of normality. Promised they would get the chance to live the life Dean secretly always wanted, even if he didn't voice it much.

Back in the lounge room Sam was just finishing wiping the blood from Dean's face gently. With all the copper staining gone, the bruises were livid and angry. Bobby swallowed glumly when he looked at Dean's cheek. This was going to be a hospital job; he had hoped that wouldn't come to that option. But looking closer at the cheek he could see the whiteness of bone poking ever so slightly from beneath the broken skin. It was a clean compound fracture. _Damn John Winchester to Hell. _He thought grimly.

'I'm going to have to take your brother to the hospital Sam.' Dean's eyes shot open in alarm and despite the obvious amount of pain it caused him, he began to violently shake his head and sit up in protest. 'I know son, I was hoping it wouldn't be required but yer cheeks broken Dean; and who knows what damage was done to yer stomach.' The teenager slumped back in defeat, silent. 'I'm just going to have a look okay?' Dean nodded.

Gently lifting the shirt away from Dean's stomach, Bobby couldn't help but wince. It wasn't as bad as he thought it could have been, the skin had reopened and was bleeding freely. He knew that not two days ago the wound had closed over and began to heal. Now it was open an angry all over again, maybe even requiring a few stitches. Scratching his head in concern and deep thought, Bobby made the decision.

'Sam could you get yer brother a jacket and some shoes? Maybe even a blanket. I'm going to dress this and get him ready to go, going to need a few stitches and some x-rays I reckon.' Sam nodded and jogged upstairs. 'I'll be right back son, just gotta deal with yer daddy.' Bobby groaned as his knees protested against getting up and down on them.

In the kitchen Bobby looked John dead in the eyes, this would end now. First he would get an answer, than he would sort John out. 'Where have you been?' He demanded.

'I was finishing the hunt; the boys were hurt so I high tailed it out of the woods. When they were well and taken care of in the hospital I went back. Job had to be finished. There was a cave in; I was locked in with the thing. Spent the past three months hunting it down and living of stale water and energy bars, whatever wildlife got in to keep me going.' John let a sigh. 'I finally killed it, spent a few days looking for a way out after that.'

'You didn't tell Dean where you going because?' Bobby asked next.

'I didn't think I was going to be gone so long. Plus he was out with concussion, couldn't wake him to tell him anyway.' John knew it sounded stupid and weak, but he had no other answer.

'What did you do when you got back out? Did you even think about the boys, consider where they might be? How long did it take you to look at your phone?' Bobby knew there were no excuses to offer this time, John did what he always did. Put himself and his own needs first. Bobby knew he was right by the guilty look John struggled to hide.

'I went back to the motel, they weren't there but my stuff was in lost property so I set up for the night, showered while my phone charger, then went to sleep.'

'What about all the messages, the voice mails?' John's eyes darkened when the third degree continued, he shouldn't have to sit through this. Didn't deserve it, Dean had betrayed his orders. He should be in here dealing with it instead of hiding behind Bobby. 'If you cared about those boys one little bit, as much as you cared about that damn demon you would have come here straight away. You wouldn't have abused your son, the only one mind you who does what you tell him to without question.'

'He should have known better then to stay here for so long! The moment that cast was off Sam's leg they should have been back out there in the job, or looking for me!' John shouted back.

'Looking for you?' Bobby scoffed. 'You disappear more than a fucking magician does John! Those boys got over looking for you a long time ago.' Pacing now, Bobby took his cap off and ran his hand over his hair before pulling it back on again. 'Why did you hit John? You broke his fucking cheek bone, clean through the skin.' John paled at his words, but the steely determination he wasn't in the wrong here remained in his cold, controlling eyes.

'I don't know… I just lost control. Not used to him ignoring my orders…' It wasn't a good enough reason, it was pathetic and John knew it the moment it left his lips and he wished he could bite them back and say something else, anything else. But Bobby was shaking his head now.

'I am going to go back in there and put a compound dressing on your sons stomach, stop the bleeding from the wound your size 12 boot just tore back open so he can go and get stitched up the normal way. Then I am going to come back here to get some ice for his face; and un-cuff you. By the time I come back through, you better be gone or I am going to fill you with so much rock salt you won't be right for days.' Bobby threatened. 'You just lost any right you ever had to those boys.' He left the room and sank down to his sore knees once more and looked down at Dean's face, peaceful as he drifted in unconsciousness.

Bobby hoped he was doing the right thing, leading these boys down a new path as Sam walked back in to the room with a large hoodie and a pair of boots for Dean. Pulling out a dressing he pressed it down on Dean's stomach and taped it there.

'Sam, if you want to say good bye to your dad I suggest you do it now. He won't be coming back around here again, I made that nice and clear.' Sam just shook his head and stroked Dean's forehead, looking scared. 'Is that what you want? Do you want your dad out of your life Sam?' Sammy nodded slowly, wiping tears out of his eyes. 'Do you reckon Dean will be okay with that?' This time he shook his head, a little unsure. 'Do you want to wake him up so we can ask him?' A nod this time.

'Dean, come on son time to wake up.' Bobby kneaded his sternum until Dean's eyes fluttered open groggily, shadowing from the pain he was in; hands clenching against the sofa cushions. 'I have an important question for you Dean; you really need to answer me okay?' He nodded.

'I need to know if you are okay with me sending your dad away for good.' Dean's eyes went wide in fear and his mouth opened and closed in shock. 'It's okay son, if you want him to stay he does.'

'I don't know…' He whispered. 'I can't keep living like this, but I can't handle the thought that we won't revenge mums death anymore. She'll hate us for giving up on her.' Dean whispered. Sam clutched his hands and started to cry.

'Your mother would want a better life then that Dean; she would be ashamed of John for putting you boys through this. He just doesn't see that, he's too blinded by revenge and grief to make a proper decision.' Dean nodded in agreement.

'Tell him, the only time he will see us is when I say so. He will send you monthly messages so we know he's alive but that's all. Nothing else.' Dean was struggling to keep his eyes open against the pain, all he wanted right now was to go to sleep and not wake up for a long time. But he knew that would kill Sammy right now, so he stayed semi-conscious, fighting the urge to pass out in to the inky blackness.

John had heard the conversation. He wanted to justify what Dean had said about his mother, about Mary. But Bobby was right; all John could see right now was revenge. So when Bobby came in to un-cuff him he said he would keep to Dean's terms, surprised he was being allowed any contact at all after what he had done to his oldest son. Underneath all the dark and heaviness of their life, it gave him a glimmer of hope. Something to return to when it was all done.

**SPNSPNSPN**

Lazing in bed, Dean sleepily looked up through a pain killer haze and smiled goofily at Sam, waving a floppy hand and patting the bed beside him. Sam crawled up beside him, careful not to nudge his cracked ribs or stitches and settled his head on Dean's shoulder.

'You need to hurry up and get better.' Sam said, looking Dean in the eye seriously. 'Bobby's cooking dinner, and singing. He's singing Dean. It's worse than yours.' Dean smirked and winced, pulling on the stitches in his cheek. 'Linda will be here in half an hour by the way. She stopped by earlier but you were way out of it.'

'Bobby's going to poison her.' He slurred. Sam laughed for the first time all week since Dean had come back home, things had been so tense between the boys since Dean had declared their dad a no go zone.

'Do you really think we are out Dean?' He whispered, snuggling in to his brother a little more.

Dean laid a hand across his shoulders and gave a small squeeze.

'Probably not kiddo, there will always be something. But right now, we enjoy what we have. Was Linda wearing a nurse uniform? She promised me she would, but that might be a little inappropriate for dinner.' Sam choked on his laughter, and Dean thumped him on the back. 'I'll be downstairs in a few, just got to get dressed in real clothes.' Sam slid off the bed with a nod and ran from the room smiling.

Picking up his mobile phone Dean turned it around in his hands and stared off into the distance as he contemplated calling his dad, or leaving him a message. Sighing heavily, he put the phone back on his bedside and slid on a pair of jeans and swapped around t-shirts. Standing up he walked to the bathroom to splash some water on his face, try and wash away the dopey effects of the pain killers and was stricken by his appearance.

There were still deep bruises mottling the delicate skin under his eyes, the stitching in his cheek looked angry and red against his pale pallor. With dizzying reality Dean leant against the sink and took in deep, heaving breaths that caused him to gag and cough over the pain. This is what he had become, all the stress and the fighting and the injuries; they all led to this in the end. Death. Dean couldn't help but familiarise his looks with those of the dead bodies they salt and burned, or the ghouls they hunted. He wouldn't have been surprised if Bobby served him a dish of rotting flesh when he went down stairs he looked that terrible.

How did Linda even look at him? Lifting the t-shirt with a grimace he took in his thin frame, the emaciated muscle and the protruding hip and rib bones that were exposed beneath the bandaging. Letting the shirt drop he turned away from his ghastly appearance and headed down stairs, determined to change this.

Even if it was just to prove to his dad that he could do this, could make a life outside of hunting. As long as the calm lasted, he would make it work.

TBC

**Nice long chapter for you all. Hope you like it, I am little unsure of what response will come of this. But I would like to know what you the reader would like to happen from here on out. More Dean hurt? A case that draws them in regardless of their denial of getting involved? **

**I was considering having it a few years later and making it so they have to rescue their dad, but I want to explore their life with Bobby a bit more first. If you all let me know that would super lovely.**

**Thank you so much to those who have been taking the time to review the chapters as they read, it makes me so happy to get your responses. It means so so much!**


	10. Chapter 10

**I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. I hope you enjoy!**

**Sorry for the delay on this coming out, but for the past two-three weeks, I have been really sick. I actually passed out half way through writing this chapter. But! Here it is, after a much to long wait the new chapter!**

**10.**

Slumped against the bar with his arms crossed and head resting in the crook of his elbow, John Winchester shifted his stiff body on the bar stool with a groan and tightened his grip around his beer bottle. He wanted nothing more than to drown in the inch deep murkiness of the beer left in his bottle, but he opted instead to empty it with a quick swallow before waving to the bartended for another.

Staring at the empty bottle John couldn't help but familiarise with it, his life was now just as empty. Two weeks after slamming his fists into his son, driving his boot in to his stomach; reality was taking its bitter toll on John. Bile rose in his throat, a burning reminder as he snatched up the fresh beer that dripped with condensation and forced down the threatening urge to vomit.

How could he have messed up so bad? There was nothing left for him anymore, only his undying need for revenge against the Yellowed Eyed Demon that took Mary's life and started this whole mess. He couldn't even think of Mary right now, she would hate him if she knew he had struck down their son; broke his bones underneath his knuckles.

Reaching into his back pocket John almost fell off his stool as he struggled drunkenly to clasp the mobile phone buried deep there. Turning the phone around he stopped, hovered his fingers over the keypad before resting gently on the speed dial for Dean. Applying the slightest amount of pressure over the digit he reluctantly pulled away and dropped the cell on the bar and downed his beer in one chug, body falling backwards as he tipped the bottle further up.

John crashed to the floor gracefully, a slurred grunt of protest escaping his lips as he struggled upright. The bouncer was moving towards him already but he waved a hand at him, throwing a wad of bills on the bar and stumbling towards the exit. Crashing blindly in to the daylight John threw his car door open, slumped in the seat and let his eyes shutter closed. Falling into unconsciousness John was mocked with nightmares of his sons and how much they hated him, taunting him and telling him how they would never see him again.

Deep in his sleep, John Winchester cried out for his sons and let tears roll freely down his cheeks.

**SPNSPN**

Leaning back in to well-oiled hands that were applying the right amount of pressure in all the right places, Dean let a dopey smile form across his lax lips as Linda continued her massage, humming softly as she worked on his tense muscles.

It had taken half an hour of pleas and begging on Linda's part to convince Dean to remove his top. Despite having been dating for the past three weeks, the couple hadn't gone further than kissing or sharing their body warmth in bed at night time. Normally Dean would have been all over this, willing to tear his top off if it that's what it took to get undressed faster. He had never been one to second guess his body or physique.

But after the coma, the stress and stomach injuries; Dean was thin and wasted with little muscle and abs remaining on his emaciated frame. Now that he was out of the family business, and looking to gain some sense of normality with a girl his age, and not a skanky one night stand; Dean was at a major loss. Linda had seen nothing past the sleeves of his t-shirts and the legs of his boxer pants.

Dean didn't know how to explain the scars, the deep indentations that ran through some parts of his body where the skin never quiet grew back the right way. Messy suture scars, the indent in his hip bone where he chipped it against a tomb stone after being thrown by a ghost, or the way his shoulder caved in when he lifted his arm from an unhealed break and damage to the muscles and tendons.

But Linda had said nothing, Dean removed his shirt and sank back in to welcome chest as she nuzzled her chin in the crook of his collarbone and danced her hands across his protruding ribcage and walked her fingers down each rib before dusting over the long scar that ran the length of the top of his sternum to just above his belly button. 'How did that happen?' She whispered softly in his ear, concerned.

Casting his eyes down at the scar, Dean swallowed as he remembered the shock of the Wendigo towering over him. He hadn't even felt it as the inhuman creature tore a long, jagged nail across his chest, carving through to the bone, fracturing the sternum and base of the ribcage with impact. Dean had almost died that night, had spent days in ICU fighting for his life against agonizing pain after a plastic surgeon repaired the damage. He had been lucky, the scar could have been worse. Five years after the fact and it was starting to fade.

'I cracked my sternum, and the bone running along here.' Dean dragged a finger across the middle of his rib cage, right along the scar. 'I was thirteen; fell through a window I think. I don't really remember.' He whispered, self-conscious and uncomfortable with the lie.

'And this?' Linda fingered the indentation in his bone.

'I really don't want to talk about it.' Dean admitted, taking her hand and pulling it away as he reached out for his shirt.

'No, no I'm sorry.' She pulled him back against her and moved her hands to his shoulders and began to massage them deeply, eyes lingering on the healing scab over his stomach. 'I wish you let me come over sooner, we could have played doctors.' Dean smiled, breathing out softly when he stopped massaging and applied the lotion to her hands, continuing her massaging.

'Hey Dean Bobby and me are going to the supermarket to pick up some supplies for dinner and he wanted to know if you wanted anything-.' Sam froze when he opened the door, voice dying in a small squeak when he took in his shirtless brother. Face flushing a beet red he backed out quickly with a stuttered apology and closed the door. Dean could hear his padded footsteps quickly retreating.

'Oh God he must have thought-.' Linda gasped in shock, pulling away quickly and wiping her hands on Dean's discarded shirt.

'I'll be right back.' Dean stood up gingerly and headed out in to the hallway, he found Sam sitting on his bed looking embarrassed. 'Don't worry kiddo; it's not what you think.' Dean assured his kid brother, patting him on the back as he sat down. It wasn't the first time Sam had walked in on him, indisposed.

'I should have knocked first, sorry.' Sam mumbled, looking down at his hands. He refused to meet Dean's eyes.

'It was just a massage Sammy.' Dean ruffled Sam's hair. 'No play happening at all there, just pure relaxation. Wait till you get your first massage from the female kind.' If it was possible Sam's face burned even redder.

A quiet knock on the door brought both boys heads up, Linda was standing in the doorway with cheeks burning almost a deeper maroon then Sam's. 'I uh, wondered if maybe Sam would like me to take him to the shops instead. I don't want to brag or anything, but I am mighty fine pie maker, both dessert and savoury.' She cocked her lips in a half smile and winked at the brothers. Dean's face lit up at the word pie. 'If that's okay with you little man?'

Sam looked like he was about to explode his face was so red and shocked, his eyes wide as he turned then on Dean as though looking for confirmation to go with Linda. 'That sounds really good, I will let Bobby know.' Dean stood up with a wince, hand automatically now, going to his stomach where the wound was healing.

When Dean had left the room, Sam looked up at Linda in a panic. He had been up against many things in his short life, monsters and ghouls alike; but the thought of being in the close confines of a car with a girl that was showing interest in him was terrifying. He could almost kill his brother for getting him in to this. Linda was pretty, and the soft smile that spread across her warms features made him blush every time she shared it with him. And right now she was on her knees, close to his face with that exact smile caressing her pale lips as she took his hand softly and led him downstairs.

By the time Sam allowed himself to be led mutely down the stairs, his small clammy hand wrapped in Linda's slightly larger one, Bobby had agreed to the situation and was putting away the things he had pulled out to start dinner. When they entered the room Dean walked over and ruffled his hair.

'Hands off Sammy, this one is mine.' Dean joked as he gingerly pulled Linda in to his embrace. The blush deepened, but Sam couldn't stop the happiness that bled through his body. That was the first real smile he had seen grace Dean's feature, the first time he had been at ease, that his shoulders and muscles weren't tight with stress. It seemed to have a similar effect on Sam as he sagged a little in relief.

Dean was finally starting to fall in to the role of the normal life.

'I will have this one back soon, and your mouths watering for seconds in no time!' Linda chirped as she took up Sam's hand again and led him out the backdoor.

With a deep sigh Dean sank in to a kitchen chair and leant his arms against the table, head slowly sinking to meet them. The same stress that had abated early, didn't take long to return and tighten his muscles and posture. Bobby's hands coming down on his tense shoulders made him jump and wince inwardly.

'How's the face boy?' Bobby asked gruffly, referring to the painful swelling and stitches in Dean's fractured cheek bone.

'It aches.' Dean replied, not lifting his head from its position.

'What were you two doing up there anyway? You're all oily and shiny.' Bobby pulled his hands away quickly, and Dean could swear he could hear the disgust in his adopted father's voice as he shuffled away and grabbed a tea towel which he vigorously started wiping his hands with.

'It wasn't anything like that.' Dean chuckled, enjoying the look of misery on Bobby's face as he went postal on his hands. 'Do you reckon dad will die without us there to keep him going, to keep him coming back?'

The questions was out of the blue, Bobby hadn't seen it coming and was caught off guard with what answer he should give. In all honesty he didn't know what would happen to John without his sons around to fuel him, and it pained him to admit that it was a grim outlook. At the moment Bobby didn't much care, being forced to look at John's damage every time he looked at Sam and Dean it sent a ripple of pain through his core.

'I don't know Sam…' Was all that slipped past his lips as he sank in to a chair of his own and pulled a half empty bottle of beer towards him, downing it quickly. 'Right now you need to make yer self the top priority. Get some meat back on those bones; regain some level of fitness even. I'm not going to push you Dean, but you need to eat more these days.'

'Dammit I know Bobby, but every time I let my guard down it's like; my stomach knots up and my head gets the best of me and I can't help but think if I am doing the right thing. I know it rights for Sam, he has never wanted this life and he has more chance of falling in to normal then I do. But what about me, and dad Bobby, this is all we know. I can't get rid of the feeling this is all wrong.'

He had dreaded this, had known it was coming but it didn't prepare him nonetheless. Bobby reached out a hand and placed it on Dean's slightly overgrown hair, massaging against the shaggy blonde tufts. He was taking on a large amount of responsibility by taking in these boys, he knew what he had walked in to but it was never easy seeing someone whom he had deep respect for since a young age, break down and dismantle in front of him. Dean's tears when he looked up at Bobby, running down his cheeks, drew out his own.

'You're young Dean.' Standing on creaky, old knee joints that protested his movements Bobby stepped over to Dean and wrapped a large hand around the youths forearm and lifted him bodily from the hard wooden seat, encompassing him in a large bear like hug. 'You're young and strong and the bravest son of a bitch I know! If anyone can take this on it's you Dean! Don't you ever think you don't deserve this life!'

'Okay Bobby.' Dean mumbled through the tears and Bobby's jacket. 'I will make this work, even if it kills me.' Bobby's heart constricted over those words. He hoped it wouldn't come to that, he hoped the life would stay away and these boys would have a fighting chance at the apple pie life.

'It won't kill you Dean; I'll make sure of that. No matter what happens, you will not die. Neither will Sammy, or your daddy!' The words were final. Dean nodded in the crook of his shoulder and pulled away, they didn't know how long they had been standing like that, but they could hear the soft hum of Linda's car engine pulling in to the yard.

They spent the night in lighter moods, Dean scrubbed his face free of tears and laughed along with Linda and got flour in his hair, and all over his shirt as he assisted Linda in making the savoury and sweet pies. Then he made sure Sam wore the same attire after he laughed at Dean's mess, Bobby had backed away then and moved to the safety of the lounge room with beer and a newspaper.

By the time they were sitting down to eat, Dean couldn't contain his smile as he looked at Sammy beaming at the spread on the table in front of them all. Linda hadn't been lying, she knew how to cook. Dean knew how to cook, but this was a completely different level. The food in front of him was recipes passed down from a family line.

Pushing away those thoughts Dean picked up his fork after Sam dug in with a gusto he couldn't remember seeing before, he joined in with the feast and felt his stomach warm too the food immediately. Across from him even Bobby seemed to be enjoying the food with mild surprise. 'This is friggin amazing!' He exclaimed.

Linda beamed in pride.

'Better hold on to this one Dean, girl makes a mean pie!' Sam giggled at Bobby's exclamation.

**SPNSPNSPN**

Standing in a dark corner Yellow Eyes glowed from within the deep depths. The boy's fate had taken an unusual turn of events, he wasn't quite sure what to think of this, but it didn't bother him all that much at the same time. This way he could bide his time, keep a closer eye on his prey. It would be easier with them in one place, he could bide his time that way and plan the right time to strike.

A cold smile crossed the lips of the meat suit he had invested in, this could work to his benefit.

**SPNSPNSPN**

_(I just had to delete like 780~ or something words because I stupidly forgot that Christmas is only during Summer in my area of the world, and Winter in America. doing this extra long chapter to make up for the long wait I put all you guys through with being sick and all. )_

Running from the front doors of the school, flanked by two boys that were slowly becoming his best friends, Sam bent down and scooped a precarious amount of cold snow into his gloved hands and quickly rolled it around to form a rough-hewn shape of a ball before pelting it at the taller of the boys.

They ran around the school yard, ducking and weaving around balls of snow and forming forts for safety as they waited for Dean to arrive in his valiant black steed. Sam loved how his friends would look on in awe and envy at the Impala, and looked up to Dean as he stepped out of the purring beast that would seemed to lovingly growl in an engine like purr over his touch.

When the Impala did rumble in to the parking space in front of the school, Sam's face lit up with a broad smile. School was out for three months, Christmas was mere weeks away, and Bobby had allowed him to have two friends over for the _whole _weekend. It was something he hadn't been allowed to do yet and he was excited. Sam couldn't remember the last time he had been glad to have school holidays, normally they held some boring task or hunt for him and Dean or moving on to another town so Sam wouldn't have a chance to hang out with a rare friend made along the way.

It was never anything to look forward to. But six months since Dean's emotional declaration to leave the hunt, and his failing health moving them in to Bobby's, and the scarring fight between Dean and their father; Sam was beginning to feel truly happy. As much as he hated to admit it, Sam was actually happy.

Bobby had started giving him an allowance for doing small chores around the house, and though Dean denied it was his idea; Sam got a dollar for every good grade above a B that he brought home. He had saved up a lot by now, and he was planning on asking Bobby to take him in to town soon so he could buy everyone a Christmas present. This was to be their first Christmas in well, ever. To say he was excited would be a major understatement in Sam's book.

'You ready squirt?' Dean called over from his spot leaning against the Impala's door, hands tucked deep inside his jacket. There were stray oil smudges on Dean's face, his dark blonde hair slightly damp from the condensation of the snow. A snowball flew through the air and connected solidly with his chest, leaving a damp spot against the light grey fabric of the hoody. Dean's eyes went wide in shock as he stared at Thomas, Sam's friend who looked just as startled as he realised what he had just done. 'Oh no you didn't…' Dean mumbled.

Frozen to the spot Sam didn't know what to do, he was torn between laughing psychotically and moving in to friend protection stance in case Dean took the light mistake the wrong way. What he wasn't ready for however, was the large ball that connected with the side of his face. Blinking steadily, shocked he turned to his friends with wide puppy dog eyes before resting on his brother who was still wiping stray dustings of ice from his bare hands, barely supressing that hundred watt grin of his, that had women swooning.

'I didn't throw it at you!' Sam protested wildly.

'No, but you can take one of my throws.' Dean smirked before opening the car door and ducking behind it as Sam shovelled copious amounts of snow in to his hands and throwing it at his big brother.

'Come on, promised to have you all out of the cold before it got too late.' Dean slid in to the car and turned the engine on, which protested only lightly to the cold of the environment. When they all begrudgingly filed in to the car, Sam shotgun with his brother and his two friends in the back, Dean cranked the heating up and pulled out of the parking lot. 'You can play more at home.'

Without realising, Sam's eyes shot wide open at the word. When had Dean started to call Bobby's house home? When did Sam miss this transition of his brothers comfort level? He didn't make a big deal of the label though; he knew Dean would shrink away and deny it all quickly, close up in his shell and rebuild his solid wall of security.

Despite his wounds being healed now, and a certain level of fitness having returned to his body; Dean was still emotionally strung out and damaged. The effects of their dads beating was still evident on the older Winchester's psyche, not just from the faint scar across his gaunt cheek bone where the bone had been operated on, but in the nightmares he woke to and his inability to communicate well. Not to mention his still frail frame and slow gaining weight.

They were getting happier as the months went on though, and Sam was thankful for that. Moving forward was better than going backwards.

TBC

**So there you go. Sorry for the long wait, but as said above. I have been so very sick, and it seems I am not getting any better at all. But I am able to write now, less chance of passing out on the keyboard now. Woo!**

**More Yellow Eyes and John in the next chapter! Please send love in the form of review my beautiful people. Let me know you are still with me!**


	11. Chapter 11

**I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. I hope you enjoy!**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and the helpful information on the way American school holidays work. Just assumed you guys had the same amount of time off for Christmas as we did. Thank you again, and hope you all enjoy this! Sorry for the delay in this but real life, bad health and looking for work seems to take a lot of life up.**

**11.**

_Three Years Later…._

Silently from snow that was almost ankle deep, the gruff unshaven man stared up at the house that was alive with lights still hanging from Christmas, excited shouting and laughter travelling to him from behind the frosty well lit windows. A sad smile slipped across dry chapped lips, a silent tear running over rough skin before collecting in the straggly beard.

John Winchester took a step forward, then another one backwards for the fifth time that night. He couldn't bring himself to go inside his old friend's house and congratulate his son on achieving his twenty-first birthday. Three January twenty-fourths had already come and gone, John hadn't been around for either of them. Dean hadn't asked him to, and neither had Bobby. He wasn't welcome here, even if Dean did ring him on occasion; touch base and share a little news about their life.

Like the way Sammy had broken his leg during a soccer game, or how Dean had spent nearly a whole week in the hospital with Pneumonia and a cracked rib after a car dropped on him in the yard and he'd been trapped in the snow for nearly an hour before Bobby had rescued him. John had been beside himself after those phone calls, berating himself for letting things get like this. To the point where he couldn't protect his sons, he'd called Bobby after these calls, drunk out of his mind on cheap whiskey and beer.

Bobby always put him in his place though, reminding him that if the boys were in John's care they would be in worse shape and hospitalised a lot more often with more life threatening injuries then the few and between they had suffered over the past three years.

John had agreed then, seeing truth behind the painful words. But tonight was different; John didn't care about anything else. His son had turned twenty-one. He was now officially an adult and his own father couldn't even get up the guts to go in there and wish his eldest son well.

Truth be told, there was more than just his son's birthday that had brought him out here, standing in the snow staring at the shadows move across the windows in different motions of celebration. The need to see them safe and in the flesh, unharmed by what he was hoping was the truth behind his number one rule; _Demons lie._

It was something John had clung to, a childish need to believe his mentor whose house he now stood out the front of. Demons did lie, they used words that messed with their victims heads and allowed them to play with their meat and prey. But this time, John was sure the truth was behind those words.

John had been shared a short insight in to the Demons mind, when he had ridden the young woman of the Demon she had spoken to him quickly before dying, warning him the Demon was telling the truth. John hadn't even had time to dispose of the body and remove his tracks before he was gone, in the car and speeding towards Bobby house.

Now as he stood outside the house, the ragged hunter breathed in a momentary breath of relief when Dean paused in front of the window with a pretty young woman his age leaning on his arm before encasing his face with her hands and kissing passionately. Smiling crookedly John shook his head and looked away a little guiltily. Maybe he had jumped the gun, that woman could have been delirious with pain and shock and said anything to try and make sense out of her situation.

Inside the house everyone was oblivious. There was more than just Dean's twenty-first birthday to be celebrated this night, the official adult had been accepted in to College and would officially be a Diesel Mechanic student by the next month. As he pulled back from the kiss, Dean slid his hand over Linda's stomach and looked out the window. His muscles tensed when he noticed the shadowy figure in the yard. Pulling away from Linda he said something about going out for some fresh air

Heading towards Bobby's office Dean paused by Sam's spot at the table. The kid had gotten paid out all night for having a girlfriend over earlier in the day's celebrations and his cheeks were still flushed red beneath his long brown locks that curled around his neck. The little squirt was getting taller than Dean every year, something he couldn't help but notice when Sam stood up to wish him happy birthday with a warm hug.

Stealthily slipping inside the office Dean quickly pocketed a Colt and grabbed a sawed off from the desk and slipped back out, closing the backdoor silently as he breathed in sharply at the freezing air. Ever since the pneumonia his lungs had been highly sensitive to the cold wind.

The figure was still standing the snow; a small drift had built around the feet. It looked human so Dean lowered the shot gun to the ground and wrapped both hands around the pearled handle of the Colt and sneaking up to stick it against the base of the man's neck. He didn't have time to react when he ducked down, hand darting back to grab- yank- and wrench the gun from his grip before closing around his wrist and flipping him over his shoulder and on the hard packed snow.

Staring dazedly at the grey clouds, snow sprinkling over his shocked body; Dean sneezed.

'Bless you.' Dean froze. 'Guess I must be getting old, letting you get the drop on me like that. Happy birthday son.' John offered Dean his hand, pulling it back wearily when Dean simply continued to go on staring at him. 'You only have a t-shirt on Dean, you should really get up.'

Dean got up. Not because his dad was telling him to, but because he wanted to and didn't want to lie on the damp snow any longer. Stepping from foot to foot rubbing warmth back in to his numb arms. 'What are you doing here? We are supposed to only have phone calls; I don't want Sam seeing you.'

'I just needed to see you boys, I heard something and I don't know… guess I let my guard down a little.' John shook his head. 'I can see I was being silly.' John turned away.

'I start college next month. I've had a girlfriend for three years, a bedroom that doesn't change. Sam's had like, five girlfriends, and he has a best friend that he's discussing becoming a lawyer with dad. Is that what you heard? Or did you hear about us being in danger of a deathly paper cut or college entrance exam?' Dean didn't mean to sound so bitter but he couldn't help it. Not if his dad couldn't just admit to being there for the sake of being there.

'That's good son. I'm happy to hear that for the two of you, guess I will leave you to the festivities then.' John walked away, footsteps crunching in the fresh fallen snow as he left. Dean watched him go, a silent tear slipping down his cheek.

Bending down to pick up the shot gun Dean sneezed again and groaned. The last thing he wanted right now was a cold, what had he been thinking coming out here in only his t-shirt. Forcing the Colt back into his pocket he climbed back on the porch and made sure his dad had left. He'd heard the tell-tale signs of his dads truck start and pull away but… Dean couldn't put his finger on what was keeping him outside, shot gun slightly raised against some unknown enemy he was imaging there.

Seeing his dad caused this, three years since he'd gotten that spider sense tingle. He was so happy and content with his life, watching Sam grow up the way he deserved to. And now he was back to conspiracy feelings and paranoia. _Something moved over near the car wrecks!_ Dean went rigid with tension, opening his mouth to call for Bobby, but if it was nothing then he was going to feel stupid.

Stepping back off the balcony Dean moved in to the darkness. He was out of practice, he hadn't kept up with his training these past three years, he wasn't cautious anymore so keeping quiet was a hard task to get back in to when you were accustomed to lumbering around.

So when Dean got no more then thirty feet inside the boundary of the car wreckages piled high around him and someone solid slammed in to him from behind he hit the ground with an audible thud and grunted with pain when the barrel of the shot gun slammed in to his underside and pressed painfully against his ribcage. Rolling around he was met with an iron fist, cracking against the metal plate in his cheek. Gasping in shock Dean tried to defend himself, but the blows just continued to fly down on him.

Grasping the shotgun he drew it up and prepared to cock the barrel but it flew from his hands, Dean knew he was in trouble now. Kicks and fists rained down on his entire body until Dean was on the point of unconsciousness, blood pooling from his nose and mouth, lacerations opening across bare skin like bloody blossoms, ribs creaking under the pressure of the boot slamming against them until they broke or cracked.

'Dean are you out here?!' The blows stopped, Dean's eyes shot wide open and looked around dartingly in shock as a cold chuckle broke across the clearing from somewhere above his fuzzy vision. The worried female voice spurred Dean in to action, he started to throw punches and gain the upper hand before Linda called his name out again, this time closer.

'Linda run and go get Bobby now!' Dean barked, cut off when a solid fist connected with his sternum knocking the air from his battered lungs.

'Uh-uh-uh Deano!' The male voice sang out in a sing song voice, a hand wrapped around his straining throat and squeezed down, forcing his head to turn upwards and stare at the cloudy night time sky that was expelling a fresh layer of snow. 'Don't want to go spoiling the fun now do we?' A face thrust itself in to Dean's view line and he blinked back in shock at the man's face- he had been expecting inky black orbs to be starting back at him mockingly; not the oily yellow ones that sent a jolt of fear through his body. 'Linda help me! Linda please!'

'Nngh!' Dean managed to force the small sound out of his lips, but it wouldn't be enough. Whatever this Demon was had already mimicked his own voice, he needed to get free and save Linda before it was too late. Struggling against the damp snow Dean wriggled his neck around in the vice grip, groaning at the abused movement of his skin as the hand let up a little suddenly and he rolled free, gasping for breath.

'Dean?' Heavy footfalls and Linda was dropping down in his peripheral, gloved hands taking his face and viewing the injuries and blood. 'Oh God Dean what happened, are you alright?' She started to cry, pulling Dean against her as he struggled to pull away.

'Linda look at me, look at me Linda!' Dean growled, hating he had to be this mean. 'We are in trouble, I need you to go and get Bobby, but not until you see me get him down okay?' Linda's eyes were wide like owls, her hair was littered with snow flakes and her pale lips were quivering.

She shook her head. 'I'm not leaving you like this; we can go and get Bobby together, please Dean!' She started to sob again, a hand unconsciously going to her middle.

'I'm sorry but I need to make sure he stays here.' Dean whispered.

'He wants you to stay too Deano!' Dean hadn't forgotten what it was like to be thrown effortlessly, without being touched across a room, he and Sam had taken to calling it flying lessons when they were younger, and tonight he flew the furthest then he ever had. Sam would be proud, he'd clear a record by the time he slammed against a car wreck and dropped like a sack of rocks to the snow.

Somewhere in the darkness Linda screamed, Dean struggled through the murky black to try and make it back to her but the dull ache of pain clouded his sense. 'Linda!' He gasped. 'Leave her alone you son of a bitch!' His girlfriend screamed again, this time in pain an Dean's eyes shot open.

Adrenalin is an amazing feature of the human body, driving normal people to do extraordinary things. Dean shot across the space he had flown and tackled side on in to the man whose hands were wrapped around Linda's throat. All three of them slammed in to the ground roughly, winding them but Dean didn't pause for lost breath as he pounded a fist in to the yellow eyed demon over and over again.

'Why are you here? Did you follow my father?' Dean demanded, but the demon just chuckled in response and spat blood on the snow. 'What are you laughing at?'

'Nothing to do with that father of yours Dean, he'll get his in due time. This is all about you and little Sammy, taking this little siesta. It's about time you gave up on this picket car wreck life and come back to the real world; you didn't think I would really allow Sam to slip through my fingers now did you?' Dean's fist faltered to come down again.

'What?'

'Dean?' Linda rolled over coughing, a hand rubbing the raw skin of her throat. 'Dean just leave him alone, we need to go call the police!' Linda crawled over and took Dean's arm, attempting to pull him away.

'Go and get Bobby Linda, this is something the police can't handle I'm afraid.' Dean kept his voice steady; he really needed Linda to do what he said.

'But Dean please…'

'Yes Dean, but please.' The Demon mocked in a pathetic voice.

After Linda had run off towards the house, Dean turned his attention back to the task at hand, beating information out of the demon. 'What did you mean about Sammy?' He demanded.

'Me to know, you to find out in due time.' He taunted, slamming a knee in to Dean's stomach and rolling to reverse their rolls. Dean was being straddled now, the demon squeezing his middle with strength outside the normal pressure of human knees. 'Isn't this fun Dean, haven't you missed this little dance-.' The Demon had no chance to finish his sentence before a bullet tore through his ribcage spattering Dean's pale face with more blood.

'You okay Dean?' Bobby growled. 'Wonder where you go off too, ambulance is already on its way son.' Bobby made quick work of incapacitating the Demon, pulling ropes drenched in Holy Water around the wrists and ankles. When he was done with that he turned back to Dean, attempting to get him a sitting position before giving up and leaning him against his thigh.

'What happened son?' Bobby whispered.

'I don't know Bobby…. How's Linda?' He coughed, sneezed and managed to supress a groan as he sat up; taking Bobby's help to stand. He sneezed again, almost passing out from the pain of cracked ribs.

'Steady son. She's inside, not doing too well actually.' Dean's face paled drastically.

'Was she hurt?' He wheezed.

'Let's just get inside son.' Bobby let Dean put most of his weight on his shoulder as they limped back to the warmth of the house, he could feel the shivers wracking off the young Winchester's frame.

Inside was a scene Dean wasn't prepared for. Sam was kneeling by Linda on the sofa with a tear stained pale face, both hands clutched over Linda's abdomen, keeping pressure on a bloody pillow case. Dean almost passed out from shock, when had Linda been hurt? Forgetting his own pain he ran over and dropped to his knees at her head, cradling it.

'How did this happen?' He asked manically, wiping tears from her cheeks. 'How far is the ambulance?!' He screamed.

'I don't know what happened, he threw me I think, I landed on something in the snow.' Linda coughed wetly, a fine spatter of blood ghosting her lips. Dean's heart was ready to stop; the ambulance wasn't going to get here in time. He turned wild eyes on Bobby, pleading him to do more.

The lounge room fell in to silence. Bobby tried to get Dean to attend to his own injuries but all he would accept was a blanket. By the time the ambulance arrived Bobby had been outside to grab the demon but it was gone. He hadn't told dean yet, he was still baffled about the escape from the holy ropes. Dean himself was almost unconscious as he hovered over Linda.

'Dean the paramedics are here, come on.' Sam shook his brother and led him back to an arm chair that Dean sank in to with a small whimper, abused parts of his body protesting even the fluffy cushions. 'You okay?' Sam whispered, he had been quiet all night, too afraid to say anything. He had been scared these past three years something like this was going to happen. And now it had, and Dean looked like he was about ready to keel over dead and Linda who he really liked was bleeding out on their sofa and her blood was all over his hands.

'It's okay Sammy, everything will be okay.' Sam looked up at Dean, shocked he was the one being assured here. His brother had completely ignored his question too. Dean's eyes slid closed, blood was still running from a wound somewhere in his hairline.

Paramedics filled the room and approached them, Linda got the attention first, Dean opened his eyes long enough to demand it. They could send another ambulance for him or Bobby could drive him in, either way Linda went first. 'She's pregnant; please you have to help her.' The only noises then were the paramedics barking orders to each other, and Dean's pained cries and mutterings of _"she's pregnant, you have to help her," _over and over again.

'We'll dispatch another ambulance when we are inside, have him lie down and keep his body straight and still. Try and stop the bleeding on his head wound, the ambulance should arrive quickly.' The paramedics left with Linda and the room was doused in silence.

Bobby was the first to act; he needed to do what the paramedics had directed him. 'Come on Dean, they want me to lie you down and stop that head wound from bleeding.' Dean just nodded and slid off the chair, he stood up to quickly and Sam struggled to catch him before he sagged to the ground. Before Sam could get him straightened out though Dean's body went rigid in his arms and started to jerk and spasm.

'Bobby he's fitting!' Sam cried, losing all the grown up charisma his seventeen year old body had achieved when his brother started to convulse in his arms. Bobby came over and tried to help Sam keep him flat, counting softly in his head. He got dangerously close to one hundred and eighty seconds when Dean finally stopped, Bobby wasted no time in turning him on his side and opening his mouth for the tell-tale signs of vomit that started to drain from his mouth.

'It's okay Sam; he must have hit his head a little too hard out there.' The older man assured the younger one. 'Grab a pillow for me will ya?' Sam handed him a cushion and sat back against the sofa, long legs folded impossibly close to his chest.

'Is Linda going to lose the baby?' Bobby winced at Sam's question.

'I don't know kid.'

**So late chapter equals long and cliff hanger chapter. **

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**12**

**Nice long chapter for ya'll to make up for my absence of late. Another one could even come after this, you never know. Depends on reviews. But anyways. Not much Dean in this one, just a lot of emotions and questions and realisations to be made. Enjoy :D**

Staring down at the swirling patterns in the off grey linoleum Sam bent down for the tenth time to pick up the pamphlet that had just slipped free of his fingertips, this had been his only form of entertainment for the past two hours; the only thing keeping Sam from going stir crazy with worry. He was alone in the waiting room; Bobby had left ten minutes ago to speak with Linda's parents. They hadn't been given news on Dean yet, only Linda. Sam swallowed convulsively, he was worried about Dean.

'Mr Singer?' Sam's head shot up, an elderly doctor was looking around the room as he called the name once more. Standing up Sam nodded in his direction, trying to look like more than just a scared seventeen year old. This all would have been a little better to Sam, if only he knew what had happened.

But Linda had come screaming in to the lounge room for help, all party celebrations coming to a sudden halt. 'Is Dean okay?' Sam asked quickly, grasping the doctors extended hand in a shake,

'Mr Singer my names Dr Brody, is your father around?' The doctor asked, giving the soft sad eyes to Sam which sent a stab of fear right through Sam because they were never a good thing. Doctors were cold and detached, not warm and sad.

'He's talking with some other people; can I see my brother now please?' He wasn't about to give up on this. 'Please?' He put on his own sad puppy dog eyes.

'Uh of course. I do have to warn you though, your brothers got a few things hooked up right now- mainly around his head though, your brother keeps suffering seizures due to swelling around his brain.' Sam nodded mutely, eyes wide with shock. 'Thankfully he's breathing on his own, how long that's going to last though…'

'What does that mean?' Sam asked quickly, casting a look at the doctor.

'Your brother is developing an infection, when he came in his clothes were cold and damp. His file states he has suffered from pneumonia before, which means he is susceptible to chest infections, and if he was outside in the snow in a t-shirt for an extended period it's inevitable.' Stopping, Sam put his head in his hands and moaned. 'Perhaps we should wait for your father.'

'No, it's okay. Just that's so much like my brother, can't do things by halves.'

'Do you know what happened to your brother-?'

'Sam sorry, and no I really don't. I wish I did though; we were just celebrating his birthday. Turned twenty one and he got in to college, we were all having a good time.' Doctor Brody just nodded. 'Then Linda came running in and I don't know, here we are.' They had stopped outside Dean's room and Sam was suddenly anxious to go inside.

'Look Sam maybe you should hold off from going in there, your brother is still unconscious and unresponsive, he won't know the difference whether you're in there or not.' Doctor Brody's hand was paused on the door knob; Sam felt like he was being treated like an equal for the first time tonight, he appreciated it a lot.

'I need to go in, he needs me to go in.' Sam smiled tightly and followed the doctor inside the room. Dean was sitting up in the bed, propped up pillows and the mattress. His eyes were closed lightly, a cannula sitting snugly under his nose, dwarfed by all the chords running from his forehead monitoring his erratic brain waves. Bruises were blossoming across the bare skin; the sheet was sitting around his waist revealing the strapping and discolouration in full high definition to Sam who winced in return. There was an obvious indentation of a boot on Dean's forearm; Sam felt his eyes drawn to it.

'It's obvious someone attacked your brother Sam, with your father's permission we will get to the bottom of this along with the police.' Sam just nodded, too tired to deny the police involvement. Something told him this wasn't in their field.

Doctor Brody busied himself around Dean, adjusting leads and taking notes from the readouts. He had Sam help support Dean while he listened to his older brothers wheezing chest, Sam wasn't a doctor and could tell his breathing didn't sound very good. 'We have him on broad spectrum intravenous antibiotics at the moment, but if he doesn't show some promising signs that they are working then we will change to something more direct.' Sam nodded mutely. 'Otherwise we will just be monitoring this head wound and hoping he wakes up soon, an orderly will be through within the hour to take Dean for a brain scan that will happen a lot tonight I am afraid.'

'Is his skull damaged?' Sam asked worriedly, brow creasing in concern for his brother. 'Or his brain?'

'There is a fracture unfortunately, and the brain is swollen and bruised which may affect a few cognitive and memory sensors for a little while but they should go back to normal when the swelling goes down.' Brody jotted a few more things on Dean's chart. 'Right now Dean just needs to wake up, if he doesn't do that then we will be a bit more concerned and may need to go in for surgery to release the pressure. But your brother seems like a trooper, I am sure he will wake up and be just fine.' The doctor smiled and walked out of the room after clapping Sam on the shoulder and leaving him alone with his brother's uneven heartbeat.

Half an hour later, as Sam was slowly drifting to sleep with his head on Dean's arm Bobby walked in to the room looking ashen and upset. Shooting upright Sam asked him what was wrong; pulling the other chair in the room up beside his own so Bobby could sink in to it with a resigned sigh.

'By the end of the night Linda could be on a locked ward.' Bobby answered shortly.

'What?!' Sam yelped. 'Why what happened?' Sam didn't understand.

'Turns out this was something Demon Sam. Linda's raving about yellow eyes and being thrown round without anything touching her, saying she saw the same thing happen to Dean. She's pretty god damn adamant that what attacked them wasn't human.' Bobby sighed and ran a hand through his hair, letting the baseball cap slip off his head for a moment. 'They are saying post-traumatic stress syndrome.' He paused on the next words. 'From losing the baby….'

The room fell in to silence. Sam had cried when Bobby had first told him Linda had lost the baby. He wasn't sure who he was crying for, himself the baby or Dean but he sobbed all the same, right on Bobby's shoulder. Dean would have been a daddy and damn good one at that and now it was gone. Sam shook his head and looked to Dean, still blissfully unaware his child was dead before it even got a chance to live. He was going to be torn up. 'Can't you go in there and talk to her Bobby?'

'I tried kid, but she wouldn't listen to me. Wouldn't lie either, she just wants someone to believe her.'

'I wish we knew what happened.' Sam whispered.

'I'm going to have to call yer daddy Sam, Dean's in a bad way. This is one of those terms we settled on for contact, I'll just be outside the door okay?' Sam nodded as Bobby reluctantly pulled himself from the chair and stopped just outside Dean's room, dialling John's number. For the first time Bobby could ever remember the man answered on the first ring.

'Bobby what's happened?' His voice was curt and urgent, not giving way for nonsense.

'Dean's in the hospital, just hanging on to life and judging by the way you just answered this phone I think you have some explaining to do. Sioux Fall General now and you better put your foot down to get here John Winchester.' Bobby growled, desperate for answers.

John sighed heavily. 'I'll be there in ten minutes.' The line went dead and Bobby was even more on edge. He couldn't help the hint of fear that jumped through his chest, had John and Dean had another spat? But he pushed it away quickly. Whatever was going on here, he was going to get to the bottom of it.

'Your fathers on his way, ten minutes max.' He offered Sam who looked up at him through watery eyes. 'You okay kid?' Bobby put a hand on his shoulder, comfortingly.

'Aren't you Mr Singer's father?' Doctor Brody had just walked in behind Bobby and was giving the two men a quizzical look.

'Surrogate. Boys practically grew up mine, had em in my custody for the past three and a half years now doctor. Good as my own blood since a falling out with their real father.' He kept the details simple, not wanting to overshare in the boy's privacy. Brody simply nodded disinterestedly as he picked up Dean's chart.

'Well he would want to get here quicker than that, Dean is about to go for a scan in five minutes.' The doctor walked round Dean's bed and lifted his eyelids and shone a small penlight in them. 'One of his pupils is still a little blown, but the other is responsive. He also hasn't had a fit for twenty minutes which is promising, and his brain waves are beginning to normalise.'

A smile lit up Sam's face. 'That's good right? That means he should wake up soon yeah?'

Doctor Brody smiled tightly. 'I didn't mean to get your hopes up Sam; it just means your brother is improving. We still don't know if the swelling has gone down, or if he will wake up. Now Mr Singer could I please talk with you outside the room for a moment?' Bobby nodded and stood up, he pat Sam on the head quickly and followed the doctor from the room with a low groan of protest from his old joints. He didn't miss these regular bed side vigils around the boys.

'What can I do for you doc?' Bobby cut to business.

'I need to know whether you want me to contact the police and lodge a formal complaint on Dean's behalf, if need be have someone outside the room in case the person who attacked your son tries to come back.' Bobby's eyes went wide, he hadn't considered the thought that this Demon might come back.

Coughing to clear his throat Bobby looked around. 'Listen doc I appreciate the help here but the police will not be necessary. I dealt with the perpetrator at the house; he shouldn't be coming back or causing any more trouble.' _He hoped. _

'Very well I can't force the matter on you, I suggest you and Sam head home for some rest soon. Dean won't be waking up anytime soon I am afraid.' The doctor watched Mr Singer's face collapse as he looked back inside the room. Many cases had come through Brody's life as a doctor and he saw people succumb to head injuries quicker then they recovered, but it never got any easier to break this news to a family member. 'Stay till visiting hours end in half an hour, then I expect you both to take care of yourselves. I am going to check on Dean's young lady friend; whilst she is awake she isn't exactly in her right mind at the moment.' Bobby just nodded and headed back in to the room.

Brody stood outside the room for a moment, watching the two sit around his patient and mumble to each other quietly. 'Are you my son's doctor?' The gruff voice broke through his reverie and Brody's head shot up to meet the bearded pale face of an older man, he looked a lot like Dean and he was stricken by the resemblance of this haggard man.

'If you are referring to Mr Singer then yes I am, you must be his father- blood father.' He corrected, the older man's eyes swam for a moment before they clouded back over with stern determination.

'How is he?' John wasted no time; he needed to be in that room to hear what had happened.

'Your son has sustained serious head injury Mr-.' Brody waited for the older man's name.

'John Winchester.'

'Dean has a serious head injury Mr Winchester; he has suffered several grand mal seizures from swelling around his brain which could still require surgery to relieve the swelling against the brain. Not to mention the bruising and broken ribs, someone had a serious issue with your son Mr Winchester. This was no everyday brawl, whoever did this intended to maim and possibly end your son's life.'

'No they didn't want to end his life, this was a lesson. A warning.' John mumbled. Doctor Brody wasn't sure if he had been meant to hear it at all. 'Has he woken up?' He shook his head at the older man. 'When do you expect he will wake up?'

'Mr Winchester were you listening to anything I just told you? There is a possibility he may not wake up at all.'

John turned on the doctor and slammed him against the wall, holding him there by the scruff of his shirt collars and white lab coat. 'My son is not some text book statistic; he has come out of worse than this. A head injury is nothing, now you patch him up and get him back on his feet as soon as possible!'

'John!' Brody sagged in relief when Bobby took a hold of the violent man's shoulder and pulled him away. 'What the _hell _do you think you are doing Johnny, I didn't allow you in here to accost the man keeping your son alive, don't you make me change my mind coz I will.' Bobby hissed close to John's ear as the doctor nodded his thanks and backed away.

John shrugged out of Bobby's hold and trudged in to Dean's room, Sam looked up at him with a small smile of hello on his face before he turned back to holding Dean's hand and whispering to his comatose brother.

'Tell me what happened Bobby.' He demanded.

'I think you owe us an explanation first John, why are you in town and the truth.' Bobby said, keeping his voice and even and low.

'I came to the house.' Bobby opened his mouth to say something but John cut him off. 'I know I'm not supposed to be here, but a Demon said something…. Told me Azazel had plans for my sons, that they had strayed off the chosen path and he was going to right that.' John had walked over to Dean's side as he walked and was now stopped at his side looking down at the bruising all over his son's body. Sam's face was pale and stricken in his peripheral; he spotted tears run down his cheeks.

Sinking back in to his seat Bobby ran a hand down his craggy beard. 'Demons lie John, but I guess this once they were right. It had yellow eyes John; I've never seen that before.' Bobby watched his fellow hunter go rigid at those words and eyed him wearily. 'Something you not sharing with us?'

Anger coursed through John's veins. Because taking Mary wasn't enough, or eluding him at every turn of a corner that John hoped would bring him closer to vengeance Azazel had threatened his son's life, beaten him within an inch of it. And John had run away like a burned child because his son didn't want him there, he could have ended this if he only could have been there; protected his son!

'Is this Dean Singer?' They all whipped around at the sound, causing the young orderly to look like a stunned deer in the headlights as he motioned to Dean. 'Am I interrupting something, I need to take Dean for a scan.' He skittered forward and starting removing the leads from Dean's forehead.

'You have the right one.' Bobby assured the orderly, moving out of his way. 'How long will the scan take?' Bobby asked.

'Shouldn't be more than half an hour, it's just a quick CT.'

'Thank you.' They watched Dean get wheeled from the room, IV's and tubes positioned around his bed as he was taken away from them. When the hunters were alone again the room was shrouded in silence as they stared down at the floor. 'I'm going to see Linda again, try and talk her in to changing her mind about what she saw.' Bobby turned to Sam. 'I promised her an update on Dean anyways; did you want to come see her?'

Looking up at his surrogate father Sam felt tears well in his eyes and looked away. 'What do I say Bobby? Should I apologise or something, it's not fair.' He leant forward and rested his face on Bobby's shoulder, crying. 'I know it ain't fair son but we didn't know, best we can do is just offer our support.'

'What happened?' John asked, confused and out of the loop.

'Yer son was gonna be a daddy, till that Demon tossed Linda through the air and she landed on something that took that away from them both.' The entire colour left John's face and for a moment Bobby was convinced the man was going to pass out on them but he kept his composure and nodded stiffly, accepting the news.

**SPNSPNSPN**

If it wasn't for the way she twitched every now and then, Sam would have sworn Linda was a corpse the way she was lying there with her eyes open and blank; staring at something they couldn't see on the ceiling. It was unnerving and Sam just wanted to run away from that horrible look and the clammy feeling of Linda's small hand inside his as he squeezed it comfortingly. Nobody knew what to say, they had filled her in on Dean after she had asked but now she had gone still and nonresponsive.

Doctors had come in shortly after they had; liquids had been inserted in to Linda's IV line and the fight had left her battered body. If it weren't for the livid bruises around her swollen neck you wouldn't have known Linda was injured beneath the heavy blankets cloaking her. They looked painful and raw, causing her voice to be a hoarse croak whenever she spoke. Her parents were across the bed, staring down at their daughter sadly. Sam watched as Linda's mum wiped a stray tear from her own cheek.

Bobby was close with Linda's dad and the two men were standing across the room talking, introducing John as an uncle to avoid suspicion or confusion. Linda had been shocked to see John there, remembering the incident three years ago all too clearly, but then the doctors had administered their drugs and everything was okay again.

Swallowing thickly Sam let go of Linda's hand and announced he was going to check on Dean, see if he was back in his room. He kept finding himself looking down at Linda's stomach and seeing it swollen and pronounced with the life of a child. Dean's child, he would have been an uncle. Uncle Sammy. He could have lived with that.

Outside the room he wiped away the tears and headed for Dean's with hope that he was back from the scan. Bobby said they had to leave when visiting hours were over so they only had fifteen more minutes. That was all he would need to try and will Dean to wake up and be okay, though he dreaded his brothers reaction to the news the baby was lost. He had risked his own life to let Linda get help first to save the baby.

'Sam why are you wandering the halls like a lost puppy?' Doctor Brody took up stride beside the youngster and looked at him quizzically.

'Oh I was just heading over to see if Dean was back from his scan yet.' Sam answered.

'Well I think I shall join you, he should be back by now. He had a mild seizure during the scan I hear so I would like to look him over again.' Sam just nodded, fear flickering across his features.

'Could he be left with permanent damage from this, like seizures for the rest of his life?' Sam asked softly, afraid of the answer.

'That is a real possibility I am afraid.' Brody answered voice soft. 'But Epilepsy is a very easily treated thing these days; there are a lot of medications that we can use to maintain a normal life again.' Sam just nodded. 'Try not to stress too much about this Sam, we are doing our best for your brother. Right now he just needs rest and hope, if the swelling goes down alone he should heal up well. I think what we need to worry about when he does- if he does- wake up is his reaction to the emotional wounds of losing an unborn child.'

Sam stopped walking and looked at the doctor with wide, watery eyes. 'It's going to kill him.' He whispered. Brody didn't doubt those words at all.

'We will help him through that too.' The doctor offered.

Sam shook his head though. 'Only one thing will fix this, and it can't be found in a medical journal.' Sam silently resigned himself over to the fact that this would untimely welcome them back in to the hunting world. Dean was not going to stand down and let this go, he would take on an agenda as violent and furious as his father's to avenge the loss of his unborn child. Sam knew he would and it sent a stab of pain and remorse through him.

He had heard Bobby talking with John, listened to what they were saying. The Demon would get his wish; they would be back on track in the hunting world. Only Sam didn't want to, he understood why Dean would want to go back, and he knew he would, but Sam didn't think he could. He'd made plans, had a future just like Dean was starting to make for himself… maybe he could talk sense in to Dean and make him stay.

Doctor Brody's pager trilled as a code was called over the speaker. 'Sam you need to go back to Linda's room and stay with your father until I send a nurse for you.' Doctor Brody didn't wait for an answer and took off at a run.

Knowing he should do what he was told; Sam looked back towards Linda room and shook his head following the doctor at a run, skidding to a stop out of breath on Dean's floor. His room was surrounded by nurses and doctors; he could hear Brody's clear voice shout _clear _over the noise of blearing monitors.

'We have sinus rhythm. Wait, he's seizing. I need twenty milligrams of Diazepam now! He's vomiting; turn him on his side now!' Sam stood in the background as he followed the shouted orders of Doctor Brody as they struggled to keep his brother alive. 'Decreased breath sounds in the left lung, manual CPR must have punctured a lung. May have to intubate, call ahead to theatre may have to go in. Temperatures forty degrees, we need cooling blankets now!' The crowd surrounding Dean parted for a moment and Sam caught site of his brother for the first time, turned on his side with a suction tube down his throat to remove vomit and a mask over his opened mouth to supply him with much needed air while Brody cut in to his exposed rib cage and inserted another tube in to his brother's abused body.

Sam turned and vomited in a bin when bloody, watery pus filled liquid spewed from the tube in his brother's chest. 'Someone take him to the guest room please, I also need his father Bobby Singer to be paged and brought here immediately.'

Sam allowed himself to be led away and pulled his phone out as they walked, a warm hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. 'Bobby, you need to come down to Dean's room. Something's happened.' Sam sat down in the chair he was placed in, accepted the water and rinsed his mouth out with it. The nurse placed a kidney bowl in his hands and he spat out the water before taking a small sip to test his stomachs limits.

'Do you need something for the nausea?' The nurse was something to marvel, Dean would be all charming smiles and good looks for this woman with her blonde locks and tan skin, green eyes to rival his own as they probed Sam enquiringly.

'No I should be okay, thank you.' He whispered, embarrassed now. 'Will my brother be alright?' The nurse gave him a sympathetic, sad smile before nodding a little too eagerly.

'The doctors will take care of him; sometimes a patient needs to get worse before their bodies can allow them to get better. I think that's what's happened with your brother.' Sam had heard that before; _things need to get worse before they get better. _It made sense.

'Thanks.' He leaned back in the chair just as Bobby and John hurried in to the room followed by Doctor Brody whose white lab coat and pale blue shirt were covered in vomit and the bloody pus from the tube. Sam winced and looked away.

'I apologise for being blunt, but I am afraid with the mixture of swelling around your sons brain and the added effects of the fever he has developed and the continuing seizures we will need to operate to relive the pressure. We will have to drill a small hole in your sons skull for the swelling to gain room to happen and take away all the pressure.' Sam's hand shot out and wrapped around Bobby's sweaty one, clasping it tight enough to make the older man wince in pain.

'Mr Singer as you are Dean's legal guardian right now it is down to you to sign the release form so we can operate on him as soon as possible. I need to alert you to the fact this could go wrong, and Dean might not pull through but this is a last resort. Without this Dean could pass in the next hour.' Bobby held his hand out for the form, lips thin and pressed tight against another as he scribbled his signature on the line.

'A chance is better than no chance, do what you have to do to save him.' Bobby shoved the board back at the doctor and turned away, Sam's hand slipped from his as he reached up for signature move, cap slipping backwards as his hands pulled through hair.

'Every damn time Winchester, whenever you are around these kids bad shit happens. I won't take it anymore. You see Dean through this and then you leave again.' John just stood mutely against the wall, looking dangerously close to cry as Bobby wrapped Sam in his arms and let the youngest Winchester cry heavily in to his shoulders.

No matter what this Demon wanted, what he had plans for? Things were not going to go his way; Bobby would make damn sure of that.

TBC

**Dun Dun Dunnnnn! Will Dean make it through the surgery? Will he wake up? What will he do about losing the baby? Will he go back to hunting? Will Azazel get his wish and have Sammy back where he wants him? What about John, will he stay or do as Bobby says? Stay tuned for the next chapter and you will find out :D **


	13. Chapter 13

**13**

If it hadn't been such a serious situation, Sam would have laughed. Laughed till tears were running down his cheeks and a stitch was forming in his side from the hitching breaths breaking through his body. Instead he sat there, clutched Dean's hand and tried to look at anything but his baldness and the thick bandages encased around his smooth forehead caked with bruises and antibacterial liquid from the surgery.

Surgery had taken three long hours of nail biting anxiety before Doctor Brody had stepped through the double doors, bloody scrubs and all and announced Dean would be okay and they could see him in Recovery in another half an hour. Sam had come to the conclusion doctors liked to make people wait, that they weren't doing their jobs right if people weren't waiting for them. He could remember waiting for forty five minutes with Dean last year, because he had missed three days of school with a stomach bug and he needed a medical certificate. The waiting game was made by cruel doctors.

Now that the initial wait for the surgery was over, they had been quick to force another wait on Sam. This time to see if Dean would wake up, and if there were any lasting issues from the swelling or the operation. Sam prayed there wouldn't be, because Dean was going to have enough things to deal with when he woke up. Right now Sam was battling internally with himself what would come as more of a shock to Dean; the loss of his hair or the loss of the unborn child. They would both add up evenly in his brother's eyes.

The door opened and Linda was wheeled in to the room by her mother, Sam smiled at them softly and turned his eyes back to watching Dean intently. 'How is he?' Linda asked, reaching out a shaking hand to encase Dean's other hand inside her own.

'He's had two small seizures; they didn't last longer than thirty seconds though but the pressure in his brain has gone down dramatically and the doctors are optimistic he will wake up in his own time. Scans are showing a good outlook for him.' Sam supplied, he had learnt it off by heart now. Every time Bobby or John stopped in on Dean he was able to give them the news almost word for word from the doctor's mouth.

'Will the seizures keep happening even when all this is better?' Sam nodded. 'He's not going to like that, hates taking Pandol even for a headache.' Linda shook her head sadly, wincing when the swollen skin of her neck pulled. It had been two days since the attack on them both, and Linda was on the way to mending, physically if not mentally. She was a psychiatric evaluation from being on the locked ward.

'He's going to have to be really careful of headaches; I've been researching it since Brody said it's a real possibility. A seizure can come out of nowhere, and sometimes a headache or a bad taste in your mouth or even a feeling can warn you one is about to happen.' Linda nodded, taking in the information. She had always respected how intelligent Sam was.

'Where's Bobby?' She asked, casting a look around the small ICU room. They were the only people in there, apart from her mum siting in the corner with a book open.

'At home with our uncle, I think they are looking in to who did this.' Linda's eyes darkened.

'Nobody believes me you know, they think it's PTSD. But I know what happened, whatever that thing was it had yellow eyes, and not like jaundice yellow; it sent me flying without touching me. I saw it do the same thing to Dean to, that's when he hit his head so badly.' Linda kept her voice low; looking at her mum occasionally to make sure she wasn't listening in on them. 'Tell me you believe me Sam.'

Looking away, guilty, Sam tried not to meet Linda's eyes. 'I'm sorry Linda…' He trailed off when her eyes filled with tears and she slammed a hand on the bed in anger. Her mum stood up quickly and walked over.

'Why don't you admit to it? I know you believe me, please!' Linda started to cry as her mum untangled her hand from Dean's and hushed her. 'No mum please, I'm sorry I won't bring it up again.' Linda begged, but her mum was having none of it.

'It's time to go back to your room Linda dear; we can't keep bringing up this nonsense. It won't help you.'

'It's not nonsense!' Linda hissed with vehemence. Sam winced inwardly for her, he'd been down this road when he was six years old and a Demon had attacked him and Sam on their way home from school. Dean had been badly injured then too, protecting him and Sam had sat there and demanded that someone believe him when he said a Demon had thrown Dean through the air.

'Sorry to disturb you and your brother with this Sam.' Malory, Linda's mum apologised as she wheeled Linda out as she sobbed uncontrollably and screamed for someone to listen to her, just once and that she wasn't crazy.

Sam had been too young and naïve to understand the importance of keeping quiet back then, his father had needed to go through a lot of hoops to keep Sam out of a locked ward and to avoid the Child Protective Services (_is that what they are called in America?)_.

Sighing Sam turned his attention back to Dean and stood up calmly to press the call nurse button, depressed to find himself so accustomed to the sight of Dean's left side going rigid while the other area moved with spasms of seizure. When it was over and the nurses were satisfied, Sam laid his head against Dean's arm and drifted to sleep.

'We need to find a lead on this Bobby.' John growled as he slammed a fist in to the table, pounding the papers below his hand with little satisfaction. He took to pacing moments later, running a hand down his face in frustration. Bobby just watched his erratic behaviour with mild annoyance.

'We know what did it, and we know why. There isn't much more information we need, it's obvious he's going to be hard to find. Your life's failure to hunt it down is proof enough for that I think.' Bobby was beyond being nice now, he had lost the thin thread of patience he had with John long ago and now he was on borrowed time before he kicked the elder Winchester out at gun point again.

They stopped bickering when Bobby's phone rang, John's heart twinged when he saw Sam's name pop up in the ID box. It wasn't something he was getting used to, the fact that Sam called Bobby ahead of himself when something happened at the hospital.

'Hey Sam, no we haven't gotten any closer to finding this thing yet. How is Linda doing?' The conversation was one sided, and drove John insane. 'I wish we could son, you know we can't though. Maybe when Dean wakes up, the decision is his. Another seizure? That's good it was just a small one.' John's heart jumped to his throat. 'Okay Sam, I will bring up some burgers in an hour. Yeah I know extra bacon and onion in case Dean wakes up hungry, see you soon Sam.' Bobby hung up, world weary and bone tired as he walked over to the bench and pulled his keys and wallet out of the small bowl Dean had placed there.

He remembered that day, when Dean had torn the house apart looking for the keys to the Impala. It wasn't the first time that had happened, he was convinced there was a Poltergeist messing with his head, but he had eventually found them amongst a pile of rusted old key chains on the bench. After that day Sam had taken to putting a high lipped bowl on the bench by the backdoor. Automatically Bobby and Dean had taken to putting the keys in there.

'Are you coming?' He grumbled to John, ambling through the open door.

John followed him mutely and they both got inside Bobby's broken down Nova and headed back towards the hospital.

Cloudy black ink surrounded Dean like a cold blanket as he turned his head to try and catch sight of anything. But the dark was impenetrable and all he was met with was the same empty feeling. Growling in frustration he lashed out at thin air and was met with a cackle and yellow eyes that mocked him from the distance.

Shooting awake, Dean blinked his eyes against the sharp pain that was building behind them and let out a tortured moan. His mouth was cotton candy dry and his tongue rebelled thickly against him. Gagging at the dryness in his mouth, Dean looked around and met Sam's wild panicky eyes.

Cold oxygen was whooshing up his nostrils as his heart rate beat erratically from the nightmare, sweat running down his fever slick skin. He tried to sit up but a pinching pain in his side stopped him, along with the over heavy feeling from his head.

'Dean whoa don't move!' Sam was furiously pumping on a button; Dean stared at him blankly taking in the blind panic Sam had suddenly flown in to. Tears started running down his kid brothers cheeks when the door opened and a nurse walked in, Dean wished he knew what was going on.

'Your brother didn't lie, look at those gorgeous eyes.' Dean blinked sluggishly at the blonde woman, trying to decipher what she had just said. _His eyes? _Blinking owlishly he looked back to Sam in confusion.

'What's going on, why does he look so confused?' Sam demanded, voice rising to a girly level in panic.

'I will get his doctor, he could just be disoriented.' The nurse left again, and Dean listened to the machine scream on his heart rate rose steadily.

'Dean you need to calm down, you're in the hospital big brother. You were attacked and hurt your head okay?' Dean nodded slightly, wincing at the pain in his head. His brother's jumbled words were making some things make sense, he still didn't remember though. Sam hovered over his face, dropping tears on Dean's cheeks to hurriedly wipe them away. Dean jumped at the feeling of his skin being touched, it was painful.

'And so the big brother awakens!' Doctor Brody waltzed in to the room, all smiles and happy words until he saw the fear on Sam's face and the confusion on his patients. Dialling down the attitude he stopped by Dean's bedside and studied his patient.

'Dean I am Doctor Brody and I have been looking after you for the past week. Now you probably feel too tired and sluggish to talk right now, which is understandable but I want you to blink once for yes, twice for no can you do that for me? _Blink '_very good. Are you in any pain?' _blink _'Okay we can do something about that, do you know where you are?' _blink _'Do you know why?' After hesitation he blinked twice. 'Okay I had a feeling this could happen, you hit your head very badly, and unfortunately this has affected your short term memory but that's okay right now.'

'Does your head hurt?' Dean blinked. 'Would you like some ice chips?' Another blink. 'Nurse could you please grab some Morphine and a glass of chips for Mr Singer please?' The nurse nodded and left quickly. 'Do you recognise your brother Dean?' Another blink, a small smile in his brother's direction. 'That's good, I will be back when you are more awake Mr Singer, to perform a wider range of tests and have a discussion with you okay?' _Blink. _

The nurse returned baring her gifts and the doctor inserted the pain killers in to Dean's IV, the pain lines erasing from his face immediately. Brody looked under the bandages and assured the wound was still clean and walked out of the room.

'You must be happy now your brother is awake huh?' Sam smiled like a dope at the nurse and sat down on the bed beside Dean, clutching his hand in both of his. Understatement of the year. 'He can suck on one of these at a time, I got some small ones to make it easier on him, but if he looks like he is going to be sick stop straight away okay?' Sam nodded and took the plastic cup and the spoon. Lifting out a small chip he placed it on Dean's waiting tongue.

The welcome noise his brother made over the cool ice made him chuckle, a small bit of water dribbling over Dean's chin. 'Feel like I got hit by a bus.' Dean mumbled and it was the most beautiful thing Sam had ever heard. He watched Dean lift a heavy hand from the bed and touch it against his bandaged head.

Wincing at the look of horror on Dean's face he braced himself for the outburst. _'Did _I get hit by a bus?' He winced, testing his voices vocal limits.

'You really don't remember?' Sam tested, his brother blinked twice too tired to talk now. 'Get some sleep Dean; you're going to need all your energy to hear what happened.' Dean blinked once more, eyes sliding closed as his face relaxed in to the calm planes of sleep.

Pacing outside the room, Sam, Bobby and John shared small smiles as they passed each other in their paces. Doctor Brody was alone with Dean, running the necessary tests and procedures to identify Dean's condition. They were keeping him in the ICU for a few more days to be precautionary, but he was showing signs of improvement already.

'He really doesn't remember anything?' John asked for the tenth time in fifteen minutes, setting them on edge as Sam spat back the same answer he was sick of repeating. John grunted in reply and kept pacing, eager to get in there and see his son. It was a blessing and a curse that his son didn't remember, on one side he couldn't tell them what the Demon had said to them, on the other he wouldn't remember the traumatizing attack. John was still secretly a little pissed his sons memory had let him down.

'You may go back in now.' Doctor Brody stepped out of the room. 'Dean is doing well, all his reflexes are good, speech and sight are normal. The only thing affected seems to be his memory. I explained to him the Epilepsy, he wasn't very happy like predicted but said he will take care, he also asked about Linda but I was unsure how to answer that.'

A grey cloud fell over the group. Linda had finally been moved to the Psychiatric Ward for observation and monitoring. They all felt terrible that they hadn't been able to stop it from happening, Sam especially. He had bugged Bobby for days just to let him tell her it was true but she couldn't tell anyone because what was currently happening would happen to them all.

'I'll take that one on; we may need a sedative though.' Bobby didn't know if he was joking when he said that, but the truth was he didn't know how he was going to react to the news. If how it sounded was right, then Dean didn't even know Linda had been a part of what happened to him. When Sam had first told Bobby that his memory had been affected he had counted it as a blessing, Dean wouldn't so easily be drawn in to the hunt again but the situation with Linda complicated that.

Closing the door behind him, Bobby walked over to Dean with a bright smile on his face, truly pleased to see him awake and smiling back. 'Gave us all quiet the scare there.' He joked, sitting on the edge of the bed. 'But never mind all that, you're awake now and that's all that matters.' Dean coughed weakly and smiled.

'Where's Linda?' He asked; voice raspy and tired.

Sighing Bobby looked down at his hands. 'Dean Things happened, you were attacked by a Demon in the yard and Linda went looking for you-.' Bobby jumped when Dean's sweaty hand locked over his forearm.

'Tell me she isn't dead!' he barked, breaking in to a coughing fit as he clutched his healing ribs with painful gasps.

'She's alive son, don't worry but…' Bobby didn't know what to say. Who the hell does someone tell another person their baby didn't make it? Shit like that just doesn't come up in everyday conversation. 'The baby didn't make it Dean, Linda's womb was pierced when she fell and the foetus was struck. There was nothing the doctors could do, I'm really sorry son.' Bobby looked up at Dean, his hand sliding from his arm to flop uselessly on the bed before clutching the sheet and a blood curdling cry emanated from his throat. Bobby winced at the sound, painful against his own throat just listening as Dean broke down in tears.

Bobby pulled him to his arms and let the younger man clutch to him as the painful sobs wracked his body and drew tortured screams from him. 'It's going to be okay Dean.'

'I need to see her.' He gasped. Pushing away from Bobby's chest and looking in to his blood shot eyes he begged him.

'Going to have to talk to the doc about that, she's on a locked ward at the moment. She ah, saw what attacked you both and she refuses to say anything different. We didn't know what you would want us telling her, her parents pushed an evaluation and they took up her three days ago.' All the fight left Dean; he sagged back against the pillows wheezing. He looked so small and fragile with all the tubes and leads coming from his body and the wrapping around his head. He looked delicate and breakable.

Two words Bobby felt disgusted putting together in a sentence about Dean Winchester.

'What brought the Demon here?'

Silence greeted the question. Bobby didn't know what to say to that.

'Bobby?'

He sighed heavily. 'The Demon that killed yer mumma attacked you Dean, didn't like that you and Sammy had gone off the hunting radar.' Yellow Eyes flashed in Dean's vision and he went rigid. 'Dean?' Bobby questioned, concern clouding his blue eyes.

"_You didn't think I would really allow Sam to slip through my fingers now did you? . 'What did you mean about Sammy?' He demanded. 'Me to know, you to find out in due time.' He taunted…." _The scene flashed before Dean's eyes, as he slowly remembered what happened.

'He wants something from Sammy.' Dean whispered. 'I remember him saying something, not letting Sam slip through his fingers.' They didn't say anything for a moment, letting the words sink in. 'I want back in Bobby, as soon as I am out of here I want back in. I won't let anything happen to Sam, or what happened to Linda go unaccounted for.'

Hadn't he just known this was going to happen? Bobby kicked himself internally, he had said he wouldn't let this happen but sitting in front of Dean now and seeing how defeated he looked, he couldn't say no. So instead he put on a game face and nodded, and made certain exceptions to Dean getting back in to the hunting business. Namely based around his health, and stopping over at home whenever he finished a hunt. Bobby would make sure the kid always had somewhere solid to touch base with, spend time beneath hunts. And that he wasn't completely out of Sam's life.

'You have to promise me that Dean, no matter what you always come back. After every hunt, for Sam if not for me.' Dean nodded, holding his head to try and keep the pain at bay.

'I'll do my best.' He assured.

'No not yer best you idjit, you'll damn well do it no matter what happens. You got Epilepsy now kid, no throwing that thick head of yours around or in to anymore wall or gravestones.' Dean chuckled and nodded. That he would try and avoid. 'Now pull yerself together and call yer brother in he's probably wearing holes in the damn floor out there waiting to see you up and talking!'

End.

**There may be a sequel to this. Let me know what you want in the reviews and I can be happy to oblige! **

**Thank you to everyone who stuck with me through this, and waited out my bad health and hectic lifestyle. The reviews and follows and favourites meant a lot and helped me get through is. Cheers :D **


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